


Two Very Small Storms

by Tighearnán (Tighearnan)



Series: Never A Happily Ever After [2]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-11-15 17:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 45,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tighearnan/pseuds/Tighearn%C3%A1n
Summary: Series of bonus feature one-shots for Never A Happily Ever After. Mostly futurefic, always fluffy.





	1. Two Very Small Storms

**Author's Note:**

> Henri= Ohn-ri

"Papaaaaaaaa."

Ansell groaned, rolling over.

Belle chuckled sleepily from the other side of their bed. "They're coming." She said into her pillow, listening to the slapping of little feet coming down the hall from the brightly painted nursery. The sound a distinct addition to the pattering of spring rain on the windows. "There's no escape."

"Another hour would have been nice." Her husband sighed, grabbing his linen breeches and tugging them on before sitting up and pulling back his hair. Through the dim stormy light trickling in through the drapes of their modest house, he smiled down at Belle.

"What?" She yawned, still curled in her spot and enjoying all of the quilts keeping away the chilly morning air.

Reaching down, he gently pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. Able to still get lost in her eyes after all their years together. "Just enjoying the calm before the storm. Two very small storms to be more precise, one of them rather loud and dramatic."

"I wonder who he gets that from." She sleepily kissed his fingers.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He ignored the raised eyebrow. "Do you need to sleep in a bit, Darling? It is Sunday after all. No school, the sh-" He suggested, unable to continue as the door opened with a click of the latch and the children wandered in.

"Paaaaapaaaaa." The youngest of their clan, all of twelve months, called out rather dramatically. Throwing his arms outward towards his father, he toddled with haste into the room in just his diaper.

"Bernard, why do you always take off your gown?" Ansell chuckled, reaching over the side of the bed and scooping up his fat bellied boy. "Hm? Aren't you cold you silly boy?" Kissing the crop of fluffy brown hair, he couldn't help but smile as Bernard settled into his lap and played with his hair and beard. Jabbering all the while, telling his papa all sorts of things, though his papa couldn't understand most of it. "Good morning to you too, Mon Petit. Busy day in store for us I see."

"Maman?"

Belle lifted her head up and smiled warmly to the soon to be four-year-old crawling on his knees over to her. "Good morning, Henri." Reaching out, she helped him lay down next to her, getting a kiss on her cheek for the effort.

"Maman, are you tired?" Henri Alexander asked sweetly, giggling as she brushed the chestnut brown hair out of his eyes and tickled his chin.

"Yes, Papa's going to make breakfast while I sleep in a little." Watching his eyes wander down from her face, she pushed the covers back and watched his gentle hands go to feel her growing belly. "Here," guiding a little palm to the right spot, she watched her eldest's brow knit to the tumbles and stretches of their future youngest. His fingers spreading out, smart brown eyes processing the fact that his mother was carrying a sibling.

"That's a lot of kicking, Maman." Henri exclaimed rather seriously.

"It is." Belle exhaled tiredly, running her palm up and down the length of her stomach. Listening to the sounds of Bernard getting tickled on the other side of the bed, a weary smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as Ansell hauled the boy up to his face to kiss and nibble on him.

"Do you think it's a sister?" He asked, eyes still glued to the spot hidden by her nightgown.

Ansell sighed wistfully at the thought, wincing when he caught a whiff of his youngest's diaper. "Alright, you. Let's go clean you up and get you fed."

"Num, num, nummmm." Bernard agreed.

"I don't know." Belle was a well aware what of Henri wanted, as well as what Ansell wanted with their newest member of the family. Her husband had been hoping for a little girl ever since she had told him Henri was on the way. And while he treasured their sons and loved them with all his heart, she knew he quietly, achingly wanted a daughter.

"Bernard is _so loud._ " her eldest told her with a hint of annoyance.

His father laughed lightly as the weight of his feet made the floorboards groan. "That's an understatement."

"PAPA, NUM NUM?" Their toddler asked, big wet brown eyes gazing up at him. With his older brother more quiet, thoughtful, and prone to painting with Grandpapa in his studio, Bernard's grand entrance had been a bit of an adjustment.

"If it's a girl she could be loud too." His mother reminded Henri. "But I need to try to sleep some more."

"Okay, Maman." He closed his eyes as she drew his head in and kissed his forehead. "I'll help Papa with breakfast."

He was such a good helper, her sweet little Henri. "As soon as I get some rest we'll find something to do while it's raining out." His mother reassured, watching as Ansell assisted Henri out of bed and nudged him towards the door.

With a squirming, prattling Bernard tucked under an arm, he bent down. "Anything specific for breakfast?" letting the boy loose, the baby went rushing off to harass his brother as he knelt. Taking the time to help his wife roll onto her other side, plucking his pillows from his side of the bed and using them to give her support.

"We still have those pastries from yesterday. One of those with some tea, please?" She looked appreciatively up at him. So doting was her husband, and with their third child on the way, an expert. Well aware of the aches and pains that came with pregnancy, as well knowing as when it was best to give her space.

"Of course, Darling." Reaching down, he rubbed the spot where his son or daughter was steadily growing. No more had been their last talk. Three was plenty, especially when Bernard had the energy of two. "You know, maybe you should take your sabbatical early." He watched her face fall into a half-awake scowl. "It's just this one's been troublesome. You've been exhausted after classes, and you know father and I don't mind taking over more with the boys."

"Can we fight about it later?" She suggested, slipping a hand over his own, his gentle ministrations helping settle their feisty little one. "I still have three months."

"I'll hold you to it." Dipping down he kissed his wife, cupping her face while being well aware it was an argument he wouldn't win. "I love you."

"I love you too." she squeezed his hand. "Thank you for being such a good father."

"Thank you for making me one." He whispered, brushing his nose against her own.

"Bernard!" Henri's voice cried out from the nursery.

Ansell rolled his eyes and got up, much to his wife's amusement. Hurrying off to see what had been upended, and what Papa needed to do to set things straight.

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat. This is canon for Never A Happily Ever After? Yes, yes it is. Ansell and Belle and Henri and Bernard (bless him) and... well... You guys can't have everything. Patience. But, this was a warm up piece a few weeks ago and I thought it would be appropriate for today. I would also consider this taking place somewhere before the epilogue of NAHEA. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments are all appreciated. I don't know what exactly I can answer/give away with questions since this thing is riddled with little spoilers and threads to more spoilers, but you're more than welcome to ask. 
> 
> And to all the Dads, guys who stepped in when there wasn't a dad, gals who stepped in when there wasn't a dad, to the cat dads, the dog dads, the assorted pet dads, to the dads who lost their kids and are still dads, and the dads who are waiting for their kids to arrive, Happy Father's Day.


	2. Grow It Back

“You have to grow it back.”  
  
Ansell gazed at his wife who was staring at him in a way that made him feel far from attractive. Absently reaching up towards his jaw, he brushed his fingers across a newly smooth cheek. Brows knitting, mouth dropping he fumbled for the next words. “I cut my face, you know.”  
  
Belle eyed the small but deep cut that had two stitches, regretting the fact that she had blurted out her response to the alteration in his appearance so quickly. As he stood in her cozy library, fire low and near embers with the late afternoon sun sinking lower towards the rolling hills and outcropping of trees outside the windows, she still winced. A large purple welt formed around the wound, radiating down his jaw southward and towards his mouth westward. His eggplant colored waistcoat was covered in dirt and ripped from his altercation.  
  
Face pulling into a frown, he huffed. “Thank you for being so concerned. I'm doing just fine.”  
  
Leaning against her favorite reading armchair, it was hard not to continue to grimace at the sudden change. Still, she managed to compose herself towards his lack of beard. “I'm sorry, Dear. I'm glad you're alright.” Walking over to him, she drew her husband into a kiss. It felt so strange without his thick whiskers. “Really, I am.”  
  
“But?” Looking down at her, his hands went to her waist.  
  
“But I haven't seen your chin in over four years,” Belle confessed guiltily.  
  
He was suddenly self-conscious. “Do you… not like my chin?”  
  
Kissing the clean-shaven chin, she rubbed a palm across his chest. Trying to find the right words to reassure him. “Of course not. It's just been a long time and it makes you look… well...  _different_.”  
  
“I had to shave it. How else was I supposed to keep it clean and put on salve? And the physician had to shave the area around, so I if I kept it I would have looked completely lopsided.” he tried to reason, however, her face made it difficult. "It would've been absolutely ridiculous. It's better off it all goes at once and I just start all over again.  
  
Belle tenderly kissed his jaw near the wound. Reaching up she carefully tucked an unruly lock of golden hair back behind his ear, wanting her husband to feel handsome and desired. That certainly hadn't changed. “Beard or not, I love you.”  
  
As his thumbs petted her torso, Ansell’s lip jutted upwards into a wounded pout. “Well, your expression is rather unconvincing.” Becoming the recipient is a series of soothing kisses that went from his lips to his neck, he felt the small hands run up his sides. It was almost working. Almost. “I could have died, you know.”  
  
Belle pulled back at the declaration, rolling her eyes. “Oh, now you're just being overdramatic.”  
  
“I could have.” He said pointedly, sorely.  
  
“Ansell, I've _seen_ you die.” She said just as firmly. "Do you not remember that? It was sort of a big thing."  
  
“It wouldn't have been a grand death-”  
  
“You got rammed by a goat-”  
  
“But I really could have been seriously hurt-”  
  
“You got rammed by a goat that you _provoked_.”  
  
“He was a big goat and I did not provoke him, thank you very much.” He refuted, watching his wife scoff. “I and the lads were just taking a walk outside of the grounds and it left the herd and came over.” Gesturing to the door, he continued his seemingly silly defense. "How was I supposed to know he was a particularly surly goat?"

Unwilling to buy into his over dramatic nature, Belle shook her head. Opening her mouth to respond, the pair both heard clumsy footsteps near the doorway and turned.  
  
Twelve-month-old Henri toddled in, new to walking and unsure of his limits. Babbling softly, as if politely entering the conversation, his baby face was set with determination. Carefully steadying himself on the doorframe before venturing further on his fat little legs, the little boy held his arms out for balance. His effort brightening the room, swelling his parents hearts with joy and pride as their little one was progressing so well. Seeing his Maman and Papa, Henri’s cheeks got even rounder with a wide smile studded with incoming teeth and a coo eliciting from his precious lips.  
  
“Look at you, little man.” Ansell turned, grinning at his love as he stepped towards the darling boy.  
  
Prattling happily at his Papa’s voice, Henri reached out to signal he needed to be lifted up and hugged. He loved to be hugged, snuggled, and kissed. It was his favorite.  
  
However, he saw Ansell's face.  
  
Confused and scared, the baby stopped dead in his tracks. The smile dying on his mouth as it slackened and he wobbled precariously on the rug.   
  
Ansell furrowed his brows, unsure of what was amiss. “Henri-” realizing what was different, he got closer. “It's me, Silly Boy. Papa’s the same, he just shaved his beard off.”  
  
Belle held her chin, lips twitching, silently watching in amusement.  
  
As Ansell drew closer, the boy tried to shuffle backward to get away. Uncoordinated, Henri tripped and fell onto his diapered bottom, letting out a grunt. Gazing up at the unfamiliar man with growing dread, big brown eyes pooling with tears, and lip quivering he whined.  
  
"Easy, Henri," Ansell scooped up his son and planted a kiss to the wavy brown hair that sat on the little head in big lazy swirls, feathering out over the child's ears. “It's alright,” Tucking him against his chest, he smiled down at Henri; gazing lovingly into his eyes, tickling his chin, patting the well-fed belly. “Look, it's me.”  
  
Henri broke into a cry.  
  
Pushing Ansell away, he sobbed. Head whipping around, finding Belle and reaching for her desperately, the baby squirmed for freedom from the big, scary man with the smooth face.  
  
“Son-” He began worriedly as Belle swooped in and plucked her frightened child out of his arms.  
  
“Shhh, it's alright baby.” Kissing his tears, she drew his head closer and felt her little boy nuzzle under her chin as he settled into sniffles.  
  
Henri jabbered, his tone concerned as he gripped Maman’s shoulder. Eyes suspicious of the man who sounded like Papa but was certainly not Papa, he cuddled closer and found his thumb to suck while Maman patted his back. Glancing over at the stranger, he quickly buried his face into Belle's neck and hid. Trusting in Maman to protect him.  
  
“I know.” She kissed into the top of Henri’s head, looking over to Ansell. “I want him to grow it back too.”  
  
Ansell's shoulders slumped.  
  
“Is everything alright?” Maurice asked as he quickly walked towards the library. “He was walking just fine I thought-” freezing mid-step as his son-in-law turned to him, he recoiled slightly. “Oh, you have to grow it back.”  
  
He scowled at all three of them.

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this might be a good place for the one shots? It'll keep them all in the same place.
> 
> Another warm up. Happy 4th!


	3. Darlings

Ansel wandered into Belle's library.

A fraction of the size of the castle's, it was still her sanctuary. The bookshelves they had built themselves went to the ceiling, her collection still growing yet impressive, and the hearth warm and welcoming in the late night. He found her rocking chair by the fire conspicuously absent. The tea setting resting on the table next to it untouched, the light of the flame dancing across the gleaming porcelain.

"Ansell?"

Walking around the couch that's fabric was studded with flowers, he discovered her curled up on her side. Head on a pillow, quilt up to her shoulders, brown eyes weary and half open. "Not the rocker?"

"This feels better on my back." Reaching out, she took his wrist and gave it a pull. Lifting her head as he took a seat, she pushed the pillow away and scooted up. Setting her head in his lap, pushing the blanket down to below her waist. Her knees curled up as high as she could draw them, belly heavy with child.

"And how are my darlings?" he asked softly, reaching across and sliding his hand across the large curve under the robe she loosely wore. Their firstborn stretching and kicking, nearly ready to enter the world.

"Very big." She grunted uncomfortably, tiredly. Taking a hand and resting it on his own. Guiding it to where she could feel a head or a rump pressing against the side. Their son or daughter had settled low in the last few weeks, preparing for labor. "One of us is very ready for the other to arrive."

"Any day now." he soothed, rubbing the spot lovingly. Taking his other hand and carefully tucking the lock of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind an ear, he listened to a slightly frustrated sigh.

Catching the fondness in his eyes, Ansell wistful in adoration, Belle gazed up at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Oh, just that you're are the most beautiful creature in all of creation."

A little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, well aware he wasn't saying it just to flatter. "Even this big?"

"Especially so." Smiling, he felt the newest edition to their family settle down to his petting. Having been told his baby enjoyed his hands it never ceased to amaze the father-to-be how much it felt true. "Carrying our little one. Who, I'll assume, is just as lovely as her or his mother." Musing, he added. "And by the look of it, just as stubborn seeing as they were supposed to arrive a few days ago."

"Gets it from you." Belle yawned.

"Can I do anything else?" He asked softly.

Mulling it over, she turned her head. Looking up into the warm blue eyes brimming with adoration, Belle asked hopefully. "Could you read?"

"Then I'd have to stop soothing this one." He noted.

"That's fine." Gently pushing Ansell's hand away, she took up massaging the spot where the baby had nestled. "And it's even better."

Furrowing his brows, her husband tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"I'm not the only one who likes it when you read out loud," Belle told him, watching his face slacken at the information.

"Really?" Ansell asked quietly, heart skipping a beat.

She chuckled tiredly, nodding her head. "Yes. You're very popular already."

A silence passed as he took in the information. Belle taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. Well aware he struggled with the uncertainty of whether or not he could be good enough for their little one. Ansell's eyes stinging at the thought that perhaps, just possibly, he was already doing something right.

Blinking several times to clear the overwhelming rush of emotions, he nodded his head. "Of course." Reaching over, he took a small book from the side table. Flipping through the pages to find one of their favourites, clearing his throat.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds-"

* * *

 

They had settled into a comfortable routine with Henri.

He was by all accounts from others with far more experience, an easy baby. Only fussing when he was wet or needed milk, sleeping through the night, and clearly enjoying being held. And with three adults in the house he was usually in someone's arms.

Belle woke up from a well-needed nap. Confused as it was dark, the moon shining through their windows, she fixed her sleep-mussed hair and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. There was a single candle left, a plate of food at the table, and the rest of the room tidied up from a dinner she had missed.

Ansell's dulcet tones were meandering through the hallway and coming from the den. Following the sound, she paused once in the doorway, taking in the scene. Maurice was reading by the fireplace, and Ansell was off to the side with Henri. Her husband had their freshly bathed son on his chest, holding the newborn in place with one large palm, the other keeping a copy of Robinson Crusoe open. His deep, soothing voice was reading aloud softly to the baby whose eyelids bobbed. Henri all of three-weeks-old and gripping his waistcoat, whimpering every once in awhile which was soothed with a soft back rub. Leaning against the doorway, Belle gave herself the time to quietly watch them.

He had found his stride as a father. The first week Ansell had been sweet yet unsure of how to assist. Feeling clumsy, excluded, and sadly out of place when the midwives came to check on his wife and child and shoo him away. However, Maurice had been a willing guide and he had blossomed into an attentive Papa. Eager to see his darlings after work, more than happy to tend to Henri even when he was a bit of a mess.

Smiling warmly, her heart wanting to burst with the sight of father and son she walked over, catching his attention.

"Did you get your dinner?" Ansell asked, carefully setting the book upside down on the table, patting Henri's rump as his son began to whine and huff as soon as Belle spoke. A signal he needed Maman.

"No not yet, but thank you for letting me sleep." Resting a hand on his shoulder, she leaned over and gently, tenderly kissed him. Well aware that few men of their time would tend to their newborn, much less read to the little one. "How's our boy?"

"A little fussy." He leaned into the fingers scratching his beard. Never wanting Henri to feel he was cold, cruel, or distant, Ansell boosted the tiny thing up higher on his chest, enjoying his son nuzzling into his neck as their wee one let out an unhappy grunt. "But he nurses around this time, so I think it's safe to say you're the expert to step in."

"That I am. Come here, mon petit." Rocking her body and shifting her baby, Henry began to squeak and root around her breast. Pushing against the silk of the robe that she had found since her delivery the most comfortable and easy thing to wear "I know, we're hungry." She soothed, ghosting the tips of her fingers across Henri's delicate forehead. "He loves it when you read to him, you know."

Her husband's lips twitched as he watched his son look for dinner. A blessedly healthy baby boy, already growing and getting stronger every day. "He just likes soft noise." He dismissed.

"Ansell," she looked down at her son, the large navy eyes gazing up at her as the tiny mouth frowned. "Henri _loves_ you reading to him. He always has."

Bowing his head, a smile played on Ansell's, feeling a pang of happiness towards Belle's declaration.

Beginning to step towards a chair in the living room, already unlacing the front of her gown, Belle paused and looked over her shoulder. Eyes clearly holding a plan as she patted the little back. "Would you come to the library with us? With your book, please."

Nodding his head, he followed. The fire was low in her room, so he added another log to ward off the early spring chill that clung to the corners of the house. Turning, he found Belle not in her rocker, but on the couch. His Henri's fussing ceasing as the sound of noisy suckling replaced it, tiny hands clumsily kneading for milk.

Belle patted the spot next to her.

Ansell padded over and sank against the cushions. "Look at this boy," Reaching over the top of the couch back, he pulled a blanket down and draped it over her lap. Cradling her face as he gave her the most tender and proud of kisses, smiling tiredly against her lovely mouth. "And you, together."

"Remember when you were scared of him?" She asked, nuzzling against him, brown eyes closing in contentment.

"How could I not be?" Tilting his chin down, he watched as she gently rubbed a thumb over Henri's pink cheek to help him along. "You two were so perfect when he arrived, and I stood there rather stupidly, the only ideas of raising a son absolutely terrible ones."

"But look at you now." Belle's voice radiated pride. "Such a good Papa."

Reaching down, he cupped a little foot covered in a knitted bootie. Henri letting out a little grunt as he focused on his milk. Kissing her again, Ansell felt Belle settle against his shoulder. Relishing the feeling of his family so close. "I hope so."

"You're nothing like him." She reassured, fighting not to yawn. Gingerly holding the little head that had a patch of brown fluff at the top closer to her breast. "And you're going to keep reading out loud to us."

Grinning, he took his book and opened it back to the right page. Stealing one last kiss. "Anything for my darlings."

Belle watched their son, feeling him relax to his father's reading.

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more until we start back up. Again, another warm up. 
> 
> Ansell begins to recite Sonnet 116 at the end of the first half.


	4. He Thinks It's Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOO. 100 comments on Never A Happily Ever After! Let's party! And by party I mean here's another one shot. So fluffy there's snow.

"Well, they're the ones who started it."

Baby Henri yawned, fat fist drawing up to his mouth he sucked on the cranberry red yarn of his winter mitten sleepily. Eyes bobbing, they found where his Papa's voice was coming from. The familiar bearded face looking mildly annoyed as he drove the sleigh down the winter road.

Belle re-tucked the blanket around the drowsy boy that sat on her leg, her thick woolen cloak sheltering him to ward off the snowfall. "Did you have a good nap?" She asked softly, tugging down his little knit cap.

Henri smooshed his cheek against her dress as he settled closer. All sleepy yawns and soft murmurs.

"That's a yes." She translated for Ansell, though any amusement towards her son waking up quickly dissipated. "And getting back to the original topic, just because they started it doesn't mean you should join in." Shaking her head she gazed at him with some reproach.

"He said my accent was funny. And then he did an impression of it." her husband huffed in a cloud of warm air, flicking the reins to urge the horses forward. The thin crust of snow churned up over the skis of the sleigh as their house drew closer in the blue landscape. "That's the rudest thing I've ever heard. And I don't care if he's from up North."

"Still doesn't mean you should get angry and tell him _his_ accent's funny." She pointed out.

"Well, to me it is."

"Everyone's accent is the same here, _we're_ the foreigners." Belle reminded. "And please stop speaking French in front of people who don't know the language."

"But how am I supposed to call them terrible things to their face when they're being utterly awful and then watch you try not to laugh?" Listening to a babble of nouns, Ansell glanced down at his son. Round little face peeking out from under Belle's heavy cloak. "He looks warm."

"He was better behaved than you," Belle told him.

"He's always better behaved than me." Flashing a cheeky smirk, it got the desired effect.

Rolling her eyes to the truth Belle rubbed Henri's back, thickly wrapped in layers of warm clothing. "Funny accents aside. It was a really nice luncheon."

"It was. It was nice to see to everyone and talk about spending Noel with the family." He slowed the horses as they approached the barn. "Whoa, whooooa. Easy boys." Turning to her, had his slightly lopsided, somewhat dopey smile of excitement across his handsome features.

She furrowed her brows at him.

"Do you not recall last year?" Ansell hinted to his wife. "Because I vividly remember you being very beautiful-"

"Pregnant?"

"Beautifully expecting our son-" He corrected. "While we were at the party. And I held you in the parlor and we talked about the next Noel."

Belle's eyes lit up, lovely mouth pulling into a smile as the sleigh stopped with a gentle lurch. Carefully she set Henri in a wicker basket, covering it with a thick quilt. "The first one with all of us together."

"The first one with the three of us." He exhaled, happy at the idea. Pausing, letting the air breathe while he jumped to the ground, he mused over a new idea. "Do you ever think about how he'll sound? His voice?" Her husband asked as he helped her down. "I suppose his accent may be different, after all, he'll grow up with two languages."

"No, I hadn't." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she looked down at her boots for a moment. "Honestly I try not to think too much about him growing up. I'd like to enjoy the moments with him that are happening right now." Reaching over, she began to unbuckle the horses from the rig.

"Oh Darling, you can just take him inside-"

"It'll only take a minute with the two of us." She kept working on the buckles and straps. "Henri's plenty warm in his basket, and I thought we could go check on Papa afterward."

Ansell nodded his head to the side, mulling it over. "Suppose we should make sure his new stove hasn't set the whole place on fire."

Belle scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"What?" She looked as though he had deeply offended her. "It's a valid concern! There's so much paper and solvent in that little room all you'd have to do is light a match and the whole thing would go up like a pile of straw."

" _I'm_ the one who installed it." Belle reminded him somberly, leading one of the horses to their paddock.

"Touché, Madame."

"If it burns down, it's not because of the stove." His wife announced defensively, petting Philippe's long snout as she gave him a palmful of oats.

They finished putting away the horses and sleigh quickly. Belle dusting herself off and taking Henri's sling that was hanging crossways on her body. Adjusting the contraption she had designed and peeling back his warm blanket she used the sling to secure him on her hip.

"There we go." She said as she made sure his little boots were pulled up, Henri naturally molding against her and snuggling in. "I think you're more padding than boy at this point."

Henri heaved a dramatic sigh, more than content to be against Maman. He was a cuddly boy and often stilled as soon as he was strapped or pressed against someone.

"Come on, slow pokes." Her husband teased, his big strides clearing more crunchy ground and leaving deep gouges in the snow pack. "I'm going to beat-"

The snowball struck his shoulder, exploding out into powder, making his stop dead in his tracks.

Henri giggled.

Turning, he saw the grinning baby and his mother, who was clearly surprised hitting him would elicit such a reaction from the little one. Scowling, he raised a brow at her. _"Really?_ "

"You called us slow." She chuckled.

Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked closer towards the little art studio next to their house. The warm glow of candles radiating from the windows.

The second snowball hit the back of his neck.

As soon as he jumped and yelped Henri shrieked with delight. Little stubs of his first few teeth studding the gums that flashed in a smile, Maman having to support his back when he flung himself backward and was in danger of tumbling out of his sling.

"That's not funny!" Her love whirled around, Belle nearly doubled over practically in tears while both of them laughed hysterically.

"He thinks it is." She giggled out, covering her mouth to try and stop. However, Henri's deep, long belly laughs were infectious.

Ansell scooped a giant mound of snow up, a wicked grin that craved revenge spreading over his face.

Belle, still giggling, pulled Henri up to her chest. "You wouldn't hit a child now would you?"

His face slacked, and his brows dropped in a low line above the blue eyes. The snow tumbled out through his fingers and pattering onto the ground. "You play dirty." Her husband grumbled.

"I'm just trying to keep my little one from catching a chill." The mischievous brown eyes taunted him as she kissed her laughing babe's forehead. "Aren't I, Henri?"

Henri, all grins and goofiness, caught his breath against her neck.

Hesitating, Ansell narrowed his gaze at her. "You better not again." He growled, slowly turning around and walking more quickly. More than ready to retreat to safety he reached to take the door handle.

It hit in the back of the head.

Henri sounded like he was about to die of laughter when Ansell let out a startled bark and nearly fell into the snowdrift that had piled up on the side of the building. Cap flying off his head and bouncing off the door it landed with a cloud of white dust kicking up and hitting him in the face. "BELLE!"

Belle grabbed at her aching sides, Henri wriggling and squealing in delight. "He loves it so much!" She gasped in amusement.

"IT'S NOT-"

Maurice opened the door, looking at Ansell, snow on his ear as he dusted off his cap.

"Oh. Hello, Father." He grumbled, quickly sliding inside.

He peered out at Belle and Henri, still laughing at his son-in-law's expense and unable to move. "Are you two coming in or not?" Turning, he watched Ansell stomp his boots and try to get the snow off of his neck. "You've taken good a pelting I see."

"Your daughter is a pest." 

"And you're the one who married her." Maurice reminded him. "Did she have a reason to go after you?"

"No!" He was a touch hurt at the assumption. "It seems they _both_ find my discomfort amusing." He grumbled, peeling off his gloves while Belle came in and his family caught their collective breath.

Maurice tried his best not to chuckle at Henri's fat cheeked grin.

"It's not my fault he finds it funny." Belle said, her laughing dying off into giggles.

"But you don't have to keep doing it!" He lamented, raising his hands up in frustration. Stalking over to her, Ansell was nearly ready to continue griping when he saw his son's joyous face. The big gray eyes gazing up at him happily, gummy little mouth beaming up at him, tummy jiggling as his wife removed his thick coat. Henri thrust a hand out and reached for him, and Ansell's heart crumbled into a million pieces. It always did. "Did you think hitting Papa with snow was funny?" He asked, moving in and pulling the wee cap off, running his fingers back through the fluffy brown hair to cup the back of the boy's head and kiss the little forehead. "You're so silly." He began to smile, nuzzling gently to get a coo as Henri patted at his beard.

"I would hope so, he's your baby." Watching the two while Ansell lifted Henri out of her arms and set him on the crook of his arm her boys found their rhythm with one another. Her Ansell being so attentive and precious with their son. It turned heads in the village, but she knew as a father he could care less.

"I like being reminded that." Pulling the tiny mittens off as Henri tittered and prattled on he pecked a little curled fist that bumped against his mouth. "I suppose I can forgive you, my son." Arching a brow he glanced over at his wife. "You on the other hand-"

"It's really toasty in here, Papa." Looking around art's studio and smiling warmly, her complete ignoring of her husband's grumbling was met with an even longer face she still would not react to. They had built the studio shortly after moving into the house. Made of stone, wood, and some reclaimed windows and other bits it was cozy but big enough for Maurice's easel, a large work bench for crafting and sculpting, and several large shelves and cases of supplies. The studio had a beautiful view of the countryside, facing just so for perfect natural light. And the inside was full of paintings, sketchings, and other artwork. Many of it doodles of her son at play and rest, making her grateful so many precious moments had been recorded as Henri grew.

"Yes," Maurice shuffled over to his little stove, opening the door and adding a log. "It's certainly helped with the winter, last year I could barely come in here and work."

"How are your joints?" She asked, blowing on her hands to warm them up from all of the snowballs.

"Not affected by the cold." Looking past her, he saw Ansell's gaze locked on Belle, trying to plot some kind of fairly harmless yet still satisfying vengeance. "I say your little modification was a huge success."

"I'm glad I could help." Wandering over to his easel, she inspected his latest painting. "I thought you had a commission?"

"Oh, that's just a warm up." Nodding pointedly at the door to Ansell, he quietly walked over. "I have the whole project planned out on that sketch pinned to the easel." Carefully he took Henri, patting his back to get his cooing grandson to settle.

Belle studied the sketch intently, envisioning the final piece.

The door groaned open.

Turning around her eyes widened when she saw Maurice with Henri holding the door open as Ansell rushed her. Letting out a shriek, she didn't have time to fight back from being scooped up. "Let me go!"

Ansell hauled her out of the studio, laughing, Henri letting out a peal of laughter behind him.

"Ansell, this isn't funny put me dow-" Seeing where he was taking her the brown eyes went wide. "NO!"

"Oh, I'll let go!" Flinging her out of his arms, he watched her land into the snow drift. Slapping his knee, turning to see Maurice holding back a guffaw with Henri squealing in amusement. 

Belle scowled at him, hauling herself out of the hill of snow.

"Look! He thinks it's funny!"

 

-Fin-


	5. Missed: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're hitting 20 chapters on Never A Happily Ever After! Woooooo. Awesome. So in order to celebrate that milestone, I think it's time to publish three one-shots all centered around one theme. First one today, second one on Monday, third and final on Tuesday.

Belle came home in the afternoon, letting out a deep, weary breath and untying her cloak. Reaching over, she took her apron off of the hook and tied it on, heading down the hall and to the kitchen towards the aromatic smells wafting through the house.

"Papa?" She asked, reaching around to refasten the ribbon holding back her hair.

"I'm in here, just heating up some soup for dinner."

Entering the kitchen, Belle went over and kissed him on the cheek. Her father bent over the stove, fussing with the contents of the pot, fingers still smudged with patches of charcoal from a long day in his studio. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon to you too. Good day?" He asked, watching her wander off to take out some bread and butter.

"It was. It went smoothly." cutting off a thick piece, knife crunching through the crust, she dipped the blade in butter. "I was so hungry during the last hour though, I wasn't sure if I could make it home without stopping by the pie shop first."

Maurice watched his daughter take a bite, chewing with the slightest of smiles to indicate she was satisfying her hankering. He smiled in amusement.

Belle looked at him curiously, drawing a brow up and wanting an answer.

"You know in the week he's been away you've gone from looking like you've eaten too much to looking like a young woman expecting a child." He offered. Watching his daughter's chewing slow, a hand ghosting down to cradle the small round mound that her dress could no longer hide.

She blushed, head tilting down so she could examine the spot. "I wasn't sure if it was just me."

"Well, it's not." He reassured, smiling at her and the prospect of his first grandchild. A little Belle or Ansell in his arms, toddling through the halls. The house was already a happy home, and a baby was only going to make it brighter. "You're showing. And when he gets home that poor man's going to be beside himself when he sees you."

Laughing lightly, Belle finished her hunk of bread. "That sounds about right."

"Do you need anything, Dear?"

"Just another slice." She said with a sigh. "How was your day?"

"Good. New painting for an Earl who's visiting the castle. Should be profitable." Maurice announced, adding some spices to the soup. "And supplies for the next music box. So productive overall."

"What's the Earl commissioning?" Leaning against the counter, she buttered her next piece.

"Oh, the usual proud nobleman painting. Astride a big Spanish horse, sabre raised, all that." Taking a tentative sip from the spoon, he nodded his head in accomplishment. "Mm. I know it's not dinner yet but seeing as you have an appetite, would you like a bowl?"

Belle hesitated.

Maurice gave her a prompting look.

Sighing in defeat, she took a small bowl from the shelf. "Just a little so I'll still have something at dinner."

"I believe you're allowed to eat whatever you want whenever you want." He reminded her, taking the bowl. Hearing the door open and close the pair both looked up towards the door that led to the small foyer.

"I'm home." Ansell's voice rang out happily, boots clomping down the hall as he neared. The door began to open as he kept talking. "I managed to sneak away a day early and I- _Belle_ -" he froze, parcel dangling from his hand and nearly dropping. Eyes widening at the sight of his wife; piece of buttered bread stuck out of her mouth, visibly expecting.

Setting her snack down, Belle went over to her slack-jawed husband.

Tossing the parcel on the table, Ansell quickly went to her as a wide, bright grin spread across his mouth so quickly that it hurt. "Look at you!" He gasped happily as he caught her in his arms and picked her up. Capturing her lips for a proud kiss.

"Did you miss me?" She laughed as he set her down, sliding her hands onto his hips and kissing him deeply.

Gathering her face in his hands he kissed back. Grinning against her mouth afterward, heart fluttering in his chest, he could barely breathe. "I missed you so much, and now I come home to find you looking so-"

"Pregnant?" She supplied.

"Beautiful." He exclaimed joyfully. "I was going to ask how you are but I think it's safe to say someone's getting big and strong."

"I don't know about strong, but certainly hungry." Winding her arms around his neck she kissed him tenderly, eyes closing contentedly at the thought of him home. Their little family whole again. "I've missed you so much."

"And it seems I've missed so much." He nuzzled, looking down at her stomach. "You had to tie your apron higher."

"Just a little bit." She pecked.

"I'm not taking another trip." Her husband reassured, carefully tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear. "I've barely been gone a week and now you've got this belly."

"I had no say in any of it." The big blue eyes were brimming with love and joy, warming her inside and out. "It just happened."

"Well, I love it." Kissing her forehead, he looked up and across their kitchen to the father-in-law he had completely forgotten about in the moment.

"Did you have a good trip, Son?" Maurice watched the young couple, all smiles, as his daughter smoothed her husband's good silk waistcoat out across his chest. Ansell in his traveling clothes, ever the well dressed yet practically clothed bearded gentleman that he was. "Daring, prosperous tales I take it?"

"Hardly daring," Ansell reported, arm hooked about her waist. "But rather prosperous. It's all very boring though, and I feel like whatever's happened at home while I was away is far more interesting." Smiling down at Belle, feeling fit to burst, he reached over and squeezed her hand. "Can I do anything now that I'm home? I have the strongest urge to dote on you, Darling."

"Let me eat?"

* * *

 

Tossing a log on the fire Ansell padded over to Belle. The firelight flickering and dancing off of her shelves of books, warming the room and fending off the fall chill that was winding through their home.

"Madame." Presenting the brown paper package as he took a seat on the floor with her Ansell settled into the nest of pillows and blankets arranged on the rug just so for their comfort.

Belle leaned against him, carefully unwrapping her newest book.

"Action, adventure, magic, and romance." He rattled off, enjoying the feeling of the weight of her back against his chest. The weight of her; against him, on the other side of the bed, he had missed it all so much. "It was published the week I was in the city, so you _definitely_ don't have it."

Flipping through the pages, Belle smiled thoughtfully. Studying the book intently her fingers ran down the thick paper and underneath, feeling the hefty leather of the cover. "It's perfect." Turning, she kissed him, a pleased hum emanating from her lips. Looking at his mouth, that beautiful tempting spot she treasured, she pecked his lips again and took his hand, pressing it against her new belly. Watching the reaction on her husband's expressive face; how his tender smile melted into one of being stunned.

He was silent for a long stretch of time, mind churning with hopes, fears, joy, and hesitation. She could see the doubt edging in. All of his history with his own father coloring his ideas. Making him second guess his own competence as a parent. "This feels so much more real." He finally breathed as she turned into him and settled close.

"It's all yours." Kissing his chest, she smiled against his clean shirt. "Good job."

"Please, my contribution was the easy part." Reaching over he pulled one of the blankets up to her lap. "Though I do like being reminded it's mine." Sighing, Ansell closed his eyes as every last thought of parenthood rushed at him. The fleeting time before he was a father the last to creep in. " _Spring_."

"Spring." Petting the hand on her stomach, Belle listened to him grunt as he took a pillow and placed it behind his back, leaning against the couch. "I keep imagining you holding this little child wrapped in a blanket with the widest, proudest smile on your face."

"I'm looking forward to that day." He said, glancing down at the spot on her waist where her apron really was a little higher. "You're going to be such a wonderful mother."

"Ansell," Reaching up she cradled his jaw in her palm, directing his eyes to her own. "You're going to be the best father, I know it." His doubt broke her heart as it stared right back at her. "You're not like him-"

"I don't know anything, Belle." Voice crackling with fear, he took his hand off of her stomach and wrapped the arm around her shoulders. It was hard to even look at her, and he found the bookshelf a welcome distraction. The last thing he wanted to was to fail them both. "I hardly remember my mother, and all I've ever known regarding fatherhood is cruelness."

"You're acting like I know everything." Shaking her head with a small scoff, she stared into the fire. "You at least remember your maman."

"But you're so patient and kind with children-"

"And so are you." Belle pressed, fingers winding through the long hair damp from a bath to wash away the dust of the road. "You have the biggest, sweetest heart." Watching him hesitate again she soldiered on. "Ansell, you know why you'll never be like him?"

He gazed down into the big brown eyes that were so earnest in their belief in him.

"You love us." Kissing his chest near his heart, she said. "I know you love us, and he's never felt love for anything."

The blue eyes welled with tears. Us. The thought overwhelmed him. "I do, so very much."

"I have every bit of faith that you'll be a wonderful Papa to this baby." Feeling him relax, she did as well. "Loving and playful and so silly. You two'll probably drive me mad at some point, as bratty as you are."

Ansell chuckled. "I can't promise anything." Kissing her temple he whispered. "I like being called Papa."

"You'll be hearing it a lot come springtime." She reassured, sighing afterwards. It felt good to have him home, safe and sound. She could relax, and even more importantly, sleep. "I missed you so much. I know a week's not so bad and you always return successful, but it's hard when you're not around."

"I'm not leaving you again. Not until this little one's born and been with us a few months." He reassured into the top of her head. "We're going to go through this together, like we always do." reaching over he took a book from the stack next to them, finding where they had last left off, Belle drowsily snuggled against him and he relished the moment with her in the little library. "Do you want me to take the next chapter?"

"Yes, please."

 

-Fin-


	6. Missed: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for oneshot number two. A little further down the timeline.

"You'll be fine."

The blankets were thrust at Ansell while Maurice; the ever steady, calming voice throughout the last few days reassured him. It had been an agonizingly long stretch of time, then as soon as the baby had arrived, a whirlwind. Everyone had congratulated him. Shaking his hand, slapping his back, telling him he had done a good job making a boy when he really wanted to correct them because he had most certainly not done any of the work. Midwives telling him what to do, what not to do, chastising him on things they assumed he would do. People bringing food, people talking too much, people, people, people.

He wanted them all to go away.

Eventually, they did. However, with the house silent he gazed at the stairs in trepidation.

Maurice watched his son-in-law. It was the moments like the one before him that made him marvel at Ansell. Before him stood a prince, a beast; ferocious and lion hearted when it was needed. A man who used to be seven feet tall with fangs and claws reduced to nerves at the thought of going into his own bedroom and holding something tiny and harmless. "Ansell,"

He turned, blue eyes wide in the dim light.

Placing his hands on the young father's shoulders, he looked him in the eye. "You'll do fine. All you're doing is going up to sleep near them and help when Belle asks for assistance." The poor boy, his own father had done a number on him and since Belle had started laboring Ansell had been a wreck. Maurice had made a point to take to care of them both, making sure Ansell had eaten something, bathed, and put on fresh clothes before heading up. Someone had to look after the dear, frightened father. "Belle's doing fine, the midwives made sure she was cleaned and tidied up and I brought her dinner. She's just tired from labor, but she's a natural with Henri. All you have to do is what you've been talking about; help."

"Of course." He nodded dumbly. Of course, Belle was the natural out of the two of them.

"If you have _any_ problems or questions, either of you, you're going to wake me up. Alright?"

Ansell let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It had been ages since his anxiety had cropped up and it was a struggle to work through it.

"It's not my first go around," Maurice reassured. Reaching out, he patted Ansell's cheek affectionately. "You're more than ready. Now go on, your wife and little boy are up there."

Maurice headed off to bed and Ansell slowly made his way up the stairs. Quietly opening the door there was a single candelabra on the side table, an empty bowl and teacup resting next to it, and from the soft murmurs and sucking he could deduce his son was eating. His _new_ son. His first son. Mon Dieu, he had a son. They had a son. They had a child. What on Earth was he going to do to not be a terrible father?

Belle's head lifted off of the pillow.

He knelt at her side of the bed, gingerly pushing away the cradle which had been placed next to the bed weeks before. Weary yet happy brown eyes found him while his heart quivered at the sight. Belle was on her side, a hand and pillow under her newborn, allowing him to suckle as she lay down in exhaustion from a long, difficult labor. A little head peeking out from under the thick quilts that warded off the spring chill making him crumble. They had a son.

With her free hand, she reached out and took his face, pulling him in for a sleepy yet tender kiss. "I missed you." She whispered. Eyes dark, spent, and needing many hours of sleep. Everything feeling sore and overworked. So tired. So very, very tired.

"I missed you too." Kissing her knuckles he glanced down and caught a glimpse of a little hand kneading her.

"It was worth it." her eyes shut in contentment. "We have our little boy."

"How are my Darlings?" Kissing her palm, he reached over and pushed some rogue hair out of her face.

"One of us is hungry, one of us is very happy the other is hungry. And sleepy, and breathing, and here." She leaned into his touch, letting out a yawn as suddenly her eyelids were much heavier.

They were both healthy, the thought making him sigh. It was all he had hoped for and even at one point, prayed for, when she had been laboring. Their son was strong and as alert as a newborn could be. And Belle was well; unharmed by the possible dangers of bringing a child into the world.

"Why do you have so many quilts?" Stifling back another yawn, she adjusted her babe. "We don't need anymore."

"They're for me when I go get the armchair and sleep next to you two."

Belle gave the declaration a silent, humorless, brow raised response before letting out a scoff. "You're not sleeping in the chair."

"But the midwives-" He began.

"I've been in labor for almost three days and I've barely seen you." Taking his wrist, she gave it a tug. When he hesitated her mouth formed a shape that was part scowl, part sleepy pout. "Ansell."

Obliging hesitantly, he set the blankets aside and climbed in. Belle pulling and pushing on him until he was on his side behind her and she could lean her weight was against her husband. Smiling into her bare shoulder, he pressed his lips to it as she pulled on his arm and draped it over herself. "Hmm."

"Much better, right?" She gently stroked the top of the little head and relaxed as much as she could.

He found the little toes under the blanket and cupped them in this palm. Every bit of Henri astonishingly tiny as they curled and shifted in his hand. "I want this to last forever." He kissed again.

"That would be nice." Closing her eyes she let out a sigh.

"You look so beautiful together." Ansell nuzzled.

" _He's_ beautiful." Stifling back a yawn, she felt her son struggle to get closer and she helped him. Her husband's big hand coming up and petting an arm, his child letting out a tiny groan.

"I missed you, Belle." He breathed, his worry pouring out. "I missed you so much, and I was so worried. But you're both perfect."

"Mmn." The brown eyes bobbed while the little chest moved rhythmically. It felt so right for Henri to be against her, skin against skin, at her breast. "I love you two so much."

"Henri." He mused sleepily, Belle's scent mixed with the baby's helping his frayed nerves. Having them in his arms did him a world of good. "Our little Henri."

"You're going to be so good with him." She smiled drowsily at the thought. Feeling his face slacken against her shoulder, Belle's eyes fluttered open and she mulled the situation over. "When he's done, could you take him? They want me in bed for at least a day, and it works better if you walk with him."

Ansell glanced over her shoulder pensively, tensing at the idea of being in charge of someone so new and delicate.

Belle placed her hand over the one that had gone back to holding the button toes. "You'll be fine. You just need to pat his back."

He shifted, worriedly watching mother and son.

"Ansell." Looking over her shoulder as he nestled his chin on it, she reached around and found his jaw covered in whiskers. "You know how I know you'll be fine?" Leaning back, it allowed her to kiss him. Their struggles and adventures had shaped them both over the years, changing them, making them less and less like the common husband and wife. Making him rare. "Because no other father would even consider helping with his baby. But you're here, and you've been talking nonstop about how you want to help me ever since we found out I was expecting."

"I don't want to miss anything." He exclaimed, stomach dropping at his greatest fear. "I don't want him to feel like I've been absent, or I'm distant, or he never sees me."

"I don't see you letting that happen." She soothed. "You love him so much, it's so obvious you love him."

Sniffling, hoping Belle wouldn't see how red his eyes were, he smiled in agreement. "Both of you."

"You have the biggest, kindest, sweetest heart." Belle was near tears herself, flooded with emotions since Henri had entered into the world. "And I know you, you'll never go a day without making sure he feels it."

Nodding his head, he kissed her again. "God I missed you."

"I missed you too." Feeling him nuzzle, she smiled through happy tears. It was the first time she felt they were a family; the three of them cuddled in bed, Ansell holding her, his face against her shoulder, little Henri's belly full of milk as he relaxed in her arm and began to doze. She let the time stretch out, looking at the moonlight softly trickling through their window, listening to their breath. Her little family, together. "Ansell." She finally, reluctantly, broke the quiet they were enjoying.

"Yes, Darling?" He kissed.

"Your son's finished and he needs his Papa."

Ansell couldn't help but shed a tear at the thought of it. Henri needed him. She sat up for a moment, taking a blanket and wrapping the little thing up to keep him warm, handing their newborn off, capturing a kiss, whispering a thank you before he climbed out of bed and begun to pat the tiny back.

"You might want a towel." She murmured against her pillow, eyes heavy. "Unless you want to wash that shirt."

"Oh." Reaching over the new father found one on the table and placed it on his shoulder. "Sorry."

"It's alright, I already made that mistake." Belle yawned, smiling as her husband began to pace in front of the window. Eyes sinking under their lids, her protectiveness towards her baby waning as she knew Henri was safe and sound with his papa.

"Will you watch and make sure i-"

She was already asleep.

Henri let out a squeak and Ansell clumsily tugged the blanket around him more tightly. Carefully, slightly awkwardly holding the baby out, he studied him. Their newborn was all Belle; that little tuft of brown hair, the way his brow furrowed. He smiled warmly at the thought of a little bit of her in the world when suddenly Henri squirmed, startling him as he placed him back on his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry." Suddenly realizing he hadn't the foggiest clue what Belle had talked about, he quickly, quietly left the room. The little one nuzzling him as he retreated to the one person who could help.

Maurice groggily opened his door to a sleeping newborn and an anxious father.

Ansell began to open his mouth to sputter.

Letting out a sigh, he gestured the new father to give up the baby. "Alright, lesson one-"

 

-Fin-


	7. Missed: Part 3

"There we go."

The sounds of a summer shower pattering on the glass outside the windows softly filled the air. Henri's big navy eyes gazed up at Belle, grunting as his mother carefully cupped water out of the basin and drizzled it over the fine brown hair plastered to her baby's scalp. Furrowing his little brows her tiny boy, just shy of fourteen weeks, let out a huff.

Belle shushed him, humming the bars of the lullaby Maurice used to sing to her about moments lasting forever. Gently she washed his legs, button toes curling and tummy heaving dramatically as even after all the time being with them he was still undecided on the concept of bath time.

He began to fuss.

"We're all done, we're all done, Henri." Taking a towel she lifted the little one into her arms and wrapped him in it. Bringing him to her shoulder, Belle swayed from side to side as Henri nuzzled into the crook of her neck, murmuring and huffing, clumsily grabbing at her. Closing her eyes she smiled warmly and tilted her head to rest against him. "It's not so bad now is it?"

"Is our boy finished?" Maurice asked as he entered the kitchen.

"Squeaky clean." Patting the little back, she felt the tiny little lips purse against her skin. "I think we need to read a book and go to bed."

"Which one of you?"

"Both of us." Belle chuckled tiredly, stifling back a yawn. "I don't know if I'll make it to my book but it's a nice thought."

Her father came over, noting how in love Belle was with her little one. It did him good to see her so happy, without the stresses that came with living in France. "You two look perfect together." He smiled, gently touching a curled fist.

Shifting Henri to the crook of her arm, she began to pat him dry. "He's been so fussy today." 

"His routine's been disturbed," Maurice explained, putting away their supper.

Confused at the statement, Belle furrowed her brows. "I've been keeping to his schedule-"

"Who normally puts him down to bed and tends to him in the morning?" He reminded her.

Realizing what had changed, Belle sighed, gazing down at her damp, yawning baby. "I suppose I'm not the only one who misses him."

"He'll be home soon," Maurice reassured, watching mother and son. Both struggling with not having the third member of their little family around.

"I know he has work, but five days-" She lamented, feeling as strongly about her husband being away as her son did. "Papa could you-"

He was already cleaning out the basin and putting everything away.

"Thank you." She said tiredly, working on drying off an arm.

"Happy to help." He replied, taking a towel to wipe up the spilled water. "I remember having to do it all by myself with you. I'm glad there's three of us to see to Henri."

"It certainly makes my job easier." Feeling Henri root at her breast she gingerly took his hand. "Patience, Sweetheart, I promise I won't let you starve." Helping him curl his fingers and keep his thumb out, she brought it to his mouth. He found it and began to soothe himself, his breath slowing as she took him to the table and laid him down on the towel to finish getting him ready for bed. "Sometimes I think about what it would be like if we were still royalty, living at the castle."

"You certainly wouldn't be giving him a bath," Maurice exclaimed, leaning against the counter and drying off the basin. Watching as Belle lifted Henri's legs up and slid the cotton diaper under the little bottom. His grandson's eyes gazing up at her so intently. "Or changing him."

"Or dressing him, or nursing him, or staying up when he's fussing." She sighed, folding the diaper in place, her son making it tricky as he kicked his chunky legs in the air.

"It would be much easier." He reasoned. "A gaggle of nannies and staff at your disposal. You wouldn't have to lift a finger."

"However, I wouldn't get to have him right against me when he feeds, and they wouldn't let him sleep in our chambers, and I'd hardly get to see him." fastening the diaper in place she leaned forward and kissed the soft, round belly that was ready for some milk before bed, catching the tiny smile as he kept sucking his thumb. "I wouldn't miss any of it for the world." Her baby fussed lightly when she put him in his gown, grumpily finding his thumb again. She chuckled "You're getting ahead of yourself, Little One. We'll eat soon, I promise."

He smiled tenderly at the two as Belle gathered up her son in a fresh blanket and pressed her nose against a chubby cheek. Taking a long, deep sniff and singing a verse softly while she patted his back. Well aware that Henri still had a lovely new baby smell about him.

"He's changing every day." Smoothing the damp hair, her face fell at a thought. "And if we were in France he'd be a _Prince_." A protective frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. "An heir." Shaking her head in disdain she listened to her baby let out a sigh.

"Seeing as that title has caused quite a bit of trouble for you and Ansell, I think us moving was a wise choice." Walking over and wrapping an arm around her Maurice kissed his daughter's cheek, gently resting his fingers on his grandson's delicate head. "You're doing wonderfully with your little boy, castle or not."

"Thank you, Papa." Leaning against him tiredly, she gazed down at her son. Dark eyelashes fluttering, so beautiful and perfect in her eyes.

"Do you want me to take him?"

"No, he's fine right where he is." she said contentedly, patting Henri's back as he grasped her dress and cuddled closer.

Maurice tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear. "That husband of yours should be home soon. Tripping all over himself when he sees you two."

Belle laughed softly, mindful as to not further stimulate the infant that needed the rest of his bedtime routine. "He is very dear."

"He's a good one."

Stifling back a yawn she shook her head to keep herself awake. "I don't think we're waiting up for him though. I think it's best we turn in early."

* * *

Ansel crept into their bedroom in his stockings, gently closing the door. Unbuttoning his waistcoat, he walked over and peered into the bassinet next to the bed.

With the rain still sliding down their bedroom windows in rivulets, Henri slept deeply on his back; little arm thrown above his head, mouth slightly ajar as he elicited a squeaky noise. Early summer made the room a touch muggy, and Belle had only a sheet on their boy. A sheet he had kicked down and bunched at his feet. His gown also somehow pushed up to expose his tummy and lower half.

Taking a knee, he reached in and petted a little fist.

Henri groaned in his sleep, chubby legs curling.

"Don't wake him up."

Looking up he found his wife's sleepy brown eyes watching him. Reaching over her side of the bed she gently pulled on the cradle's rail and let go, causing it to sway and soothe their babe. "Sorry."

Slowly sitting up, Belle climbed out of bed. Lightning from far away giving a faint flash of blue light. "How late is it?" She sniffled, padding over to him.

"Too late." He sighed, sliding his hands on her hips and pressing a kiss to her forehead while she glanced over at the clock. "I'm sorry, they wouldn't let me leave." Gently combing his fingers through her hair while she helped him out of his waistcoat.

"It's alright. We just went to bed early. He's been fussy because you haven't been home for his routine." As soon as he took off his shirt she slid her palm up his chest and pressed her lips to his pectoral. "Hmn." She pulled him closer by the hips and kissed him in a way that soon grew heated.

Ansell purred when they parted lips, breath a bit ragged. Hand resting on her neck, he gazed into the passionate, hungry brown eyes while one of her hands worried at the laces of his breeches. "Really?"

"Really." She kissed. "I've missed you so much." Untying them Belle smiled down at the clothing she was working on. "And I just caught up on quite a bit of sleep."

Dipping his head in he kissed and nipped at her neck. "And you're sure?"

A hand slipped down his breeches as the answer.

Letting out a groan her husband lifted her up, more than eager to get her to bed after months of Belle being unable to do to discomfort or lack of interest. "I must admit, it's not as fun all by my lonesome."

Belle laughed softly, yanking down his breeches as soon as she was laid at the end of their bed. He began to lift her gown up and she grabbed his hand.

Ansell gave her a puzzled look, seeing some self-consciousness edging into her eyes.

"It won't be the same." Whispering, it was clear she was nervous at his reaction. "I'm not the same."

Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "I would hope not." Gently taking her out of her gown, he nibbled her neck. "You carried and care for our beautiful, bright boy." Running his hand up her stomach, he kissed lower. "And I want to enjoy every bit of you."

Belle pulled him closer while he finished taking off his breeches and stockings. Lips painting a trail of kisses across her.

"I just have one request." He rumbled, capturing her lips again, his fingers parting and holding her thighs.

"Yes?" Arching her back she began to wind her fingers through his hair.

"Try not to wake him up."

Laughing huskily she drew him closer. "I'll do my best."

* * *

The lightning grew closer, brilliantly crackling outside of their window, thunder rolling and roaring. The storm had intensified while Belle and Ansell, content from their first time being together in months, had fallen asleep tangled in one another.

Henri let out a frightened scream from his bassinet when a flash of light lit up the room and a boom of thunder quickly followed, waking his tired parents.

Belle began to groggily reach over to take her babe, however, Ansell gently pushed her back down to bed, pulled on his breeches, and got up. Gathering his child in his arms he began to talk softly, comfortingly, and pace the floor. Belle could see Henri gazing at his father, a bit stunned he had returned, yet quickly turning and snuggling in while Ansell patted his back and began to sing the lullaby. Their boy curled in the cradle of his strong arms, pulling and whining at the skin of his bare chest. His father helping him find a thumb to suck, palm gingerly cupping the little head as he rocked on his heels and kept softly singing. Turning and see Belle sitting up, he smiled wearily. "Just needed Papa."

Another flash of lightning tore through the sky yet Henri, safe with Papa, merely whimpered as Ansell told him he was protected and loved. Eventually wandering back over to the bed, he climbed in.

"No cradle?" Belle asked, adoring her husband.

"We're too scared." He told her, putting Henri on his chest, tiny head nuzzling under his chin. "We need to feel safe and Maman and Papa are so good at that. Isn't that right, Henri?" Patting the little back, he felt a tiny yet ferocious yawn and smiled tenderly at his wife. "I missed you two."

"We missed you." She turned and kissed him, fingers combing through her husband's thick golden mane of hair and tucking it out of his face. "Henri had a hard time without you putting him to bed and taking him in the morning."

"I had a hard time without you two nearby." Resting his head against her own, he sighed heavily. "I find myself wanting to travel less and less. It was the first time away from him and all I wanted to do was to come home and hold my son and be with my family."

"It's for work." Belle's arm draped over his stomach as she kissed her husband's shoulder, absently rubbing soothing circles on his torso.

"I'm in a good position right now." He announced as Henri let out a little snore, oblivious to the lightning and thunder. "I have no need to expand, and all of my contracts are secure and fair. There's no reason to go to the city for awhile when I could be home with my lovely, exasperating wife and my giggly little boy."

"Exasperating?"

"He's getting so giggly now." He exclaimed warmly, ignoring the raised brow towards his teasing."Just a few weeks ago he was helpless. And now? He's cooing and smiling and he's ticklish and he knows us. Makes my heart skip when he smiles at me."

"It's a very good smile." Belle agreed.

"I don't want to miss anything. It's like there's something new every day."  Looking down at his boy, the back up to his wife, Ansell felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest. He felt lucky, incredibly lucky, to have his darlings. To see his son grow and change and gaze at him adoringly. To have an encouraging, brilliant wife as his partner in every crime. 

 Suddenly, she watched as Ansell's face slackened, his eyes going far way. Suddenly he was somber, lost in the past, lost miles away. Knowingly, she kissed him to chase the past away. "And what are we thinking?"

"Just how we moved mountains to get to this moment, with our boy, and it was worth it." He smiled tiredly.

"It really was." They laid back down, Ansell putting Henri on the bed between them, Belle curling up with her son as the parents laid on their sides to love and marvel at their child. "He's a good adventure." She finally broke the silence while Henri let out another mighty yawn.

"He's the best one."

* * *

"There we go, Son."

Henri yawned, smacking his lips after his father had wiped them off. Full of milk and freshly burped, he murmured happily while Ansell held him to his shoulder and rocked on his heels.

Pacing slowly in front of the window, he softly marveled. "You're getting so big, I should never have been gone for so long." Turning, he padded back over to the bed. Eying his sleepy wife who had put herself back together after Henri's first breakfast. "A most impressive belly. You do good work, Maman."

Belle smiled at the two. Ansell sliding back under the covers, Henri secured against his chest as he sat in bed. "It's time for you to get up."

"I'd like to spend some time with my darlings." He told her, shifting Henri into the crook of his arm. "I've been gone for days and I don't get enough mornings with you two as it is."

Watching father and son, Belle couldn't help but smile at the pair. Henri dozing with a round, full stomach, Ansell holding and gingerly rubbing his thumb across a little arm that was getting fatter from all of the feedings. Blue eyes so soft towards his son. Getting up, she sat next to her husband and kissed him. Slowly, lovingly, deeply.

Ansell rumbled, arching involuntarily as she wound fingers around the back of his neck and let out a soft whimper. Catching his breath, he saw the look in the brown eyes. "Mmn and-" she stole the words with another tantalizing kiss. Hand running up the length of his torso. Making it hard to remember the infant sleeping between them. Catching his breath, he nuzzled back when she began to slowly kiss his jaw. "Again?" He asked softly. "Not that I mind at all."

"Hmm." She kissed, resting a hand on his thigh.

"And what's brought this early morning seduction?" He grinned against her mouth.

"You, being a father to our boy." She purred.

"Just when I take care of him?"

"Oh hush." silencing him with another kiss, she gazed down at their sleeping roadblock.

Watching Belle take Henri out of his arms and depositing the sleepy child in the bassinet next to the bed, Ansell took a deep, eager breath. Pulling her into his lap, letting out a growl as her legs slipped around his waist and she left a tender trail of kisses from his ear to his neck. "Belle-"

"I think we have some catching up to do." She nipped at his ear, letting out a groan due to his wandering and skilled hands.

"Well, I'm certainly game." He breathed huskily.

" _A lot_ of catching up to do."

* * *

Maurice gazed up from the tops of his glasses, watching Ansell and Belle uncharacteristically come down together for breakfast. Glancing at one another happily, talking in a way they hadn't quite done in awhile. "Good morning." He watched the two slowly realize they were being watched. "Henri."

Ever the thriving child, Henri heard his name and perked up. Seeing Grandpapa, he let out a loud coo and wriggled eagerly.

Smiling, he took his grandson from Ansell and eased back into his chair. "Well good morning my boy."

Henri let out a string of sounds, nestling himself closer as he gripped onto Grandpapa's waistcoat.

Dropping a kiss to the dark brown crop of hair, he patted the baby's back to settle him. "So how are you two?"

"Good." Belle smiled, sliding a hand around Ansell's waist.

Ansell grinned down, stealing a kiss. "Very good." Letting out a "Mmm" as her fingernails scratched his back.

Henri gazed up at his grandfather.

"Well, it's nice to see both of you with smiles on your faces." He said knowingly, watching Ansell steal another kiss before actually getting breakfast. Glancing down to the little boy staring at him with a fat cheeked smile, his most recent accomplishment, Maurice squinted thoughtfully. "Good to see you still happy too." Seeing the look on his daughter's eyes, he stood, taking his plate and quietly placing it in the dishpan. "I think I'll take the baby to my studio." He told them both, carting their little one out of the kitchen.

As soon as the door shut, Belle came over and slipped her hands over his hips, pulling him to face her, kissing his chest. "I know you should get to work but-"

"I'm the boss, I can come in whenever it suits me." He dismissed, toying with her skirt. "Especially when my wife has very-" he kissed her neck "serious-" and again "needs-" and again "-only I can tend to." she was already unlacing his breeches as he ran a hand under and up her skirt before lifting her onto the table.

Belle's head went back involuntarily.

"You're not wearing your bloomers." He discovered.

"Wonder why." Smiling wickedly, Belle pulled at the fabric that was suddenly rather constraining on him.

"Planned this all along?" He rumbled into her neck. "In the kitchen?"

"I thought I'd see you at lunch but this works." she panted, fumbling with his breeches.

Grabbing her wrist he drew her hand back from his lower half, seeing the confusion in her eyes. "Darling, I have _other_ plans for you." smiling hungrily, he began to sink to his knees, kissing the length of her all the way over her dress.

Breath hitching, her fingers twisted into his hair and accidentally untied his ponytail as she realized his how attentive he was about to be. Her skirt being pushed back up as his palm stroked her upper thigh.

"Did I tell you how much I _missed_ you?" He kissed into her knee.

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to up the rating to teen for my implied steamy sex scenes but I think it's justified. Also, I am so very sorry this is a day late! But we have all three parts now so we're good.
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting, bookmarking and kudo'ing. You guys are great, I'm glad I have a place for all of this fluff.


	8. Perhaps She Always Would

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> America sucks right now. Let's post some fluff.

"Your name."

He simply stared at her, the grinning fool that he was. One of her hands was on his hip, the other exploring his face. His new face, his face from years ago. She was beaming from ear to ear, studying every inch of him.

He didn't hear her.

Belle furrowed her brows, observing the handsome man. Her beast just moments ago, her dead love suddenly alive and golden haired. How was he so impossibly handsome? He appeared so different, and yet, she knew him. Those eyes, those piercing eyes. Sweet and astounded, staring back at her.

She knew those eyes.

Letting out a soft laugh at how addled he was, she drew the speechless man in for another kiss. "Are you going to make me guess?"

Blinking away the haze, she pulled him closer and he carded his fingers through the messy chestnut hair. "Make you guess what?"

He had the most endearing lopsided smile. Mouth slightly open, edges of his teeth showing, lips flushed and tempting. "What's your  _name."_

Pulling his face back ever so slightly, he pondered the question.

A brow raised at him. "Am I supposed to keep calling you Beast?"

"Oh heavens  _no_." He blurted, lip curling in disgust. Amusing her to no end that some of the traits she knew so well carried over.

"I had hoped not. That would have been a little awkward."

Those teasing chocolate eyes gazed at him adoringly, cheekily. They made him feel warm from his feet which were certainly not paws, to his no longer horn-adorned head. "My name is Ansell.  _Anselme_ , really. But I prefer Ansell." Exhaling, Ansell's chest rattled in disbelief. He was Ansell again. Finally taking his attention away from Belle and looking around the room he watched the last bit of brick and glass fit back into place, stone shining and white. The sunrise suddenly striking the windows and making his chambers glow. Making her glow.

The woman in the cloak, slowly slipping away.

His face fell.

Gazing up at him, squinting in thought, Belle ran the hand up from his waist to his chest, taking her time to feel the muscles underneath the shirt he had on. No longer broad and burly, yet still strong. Staring at the spot her hand had wandered to, where his heart sat underneath, she adored the thought of that heart beating again. His skin warm and alive. The giant, furred fellow she had fallen for was gone, yet she could see her beast inside. Sweet, dear, unsure Beast. And he had a name. "Ansell." Staring back up into the bright summer sky eyes, she tucked a piece of unruly mane behind an ear. Musing that he still had a mane.

Taking the hand from his chest, Ansell kissed the knuckles, feeling a touch exposed. She was learning so much so quickly. "I hope you're not too disappointed with it."

Chuckling, she shook her head slightly. Mon Dieu, his voice was heavenly. "No, it's wonderful. It's perfect, it's- it's  _you."_ Fighting back tears, she stepped in and found herself enveloped by warm, safe arms. Hugging him tightly while her shoulders heaved and finally relaxed Belle wanted to melt into his arms.  _Ansell's_  arms. "You came back." She sniffled.

"And now I'm Ansell." He smiled into her hair.

"Yes." Still astonished, she let out a giggle. "Ansell." Turning, Belle pressed her lips against an arm holding her, smiling against the linen sleeve, breathing his scent for the first time.

"That sounds rather lovely coming from you." He said into her crown, eyes shutting in contentment to the face nuzzling against his neck while his heart flipped. Oh, she was safe and with him. Not that vile man's prize, not hurt nor forced against her will into a terrible situation. They were together.

Fighting back tears as she let out a small, happy gasp of disbelief. He was safe. He was safe and Gaston could never hurt him again. The castle was suddenly brighter and alive, and then-

The brown eyes abruptly flew open. Pushing on Ansell, her mouth slackened in realization. 

"What is it, Darling?" He asked, a bit nervous he had called her "darling". It had been a reflex, a slip, however, it felt so right. So natural. His darling Belle.

"The staff!"

Eyes doubling in size a bright grin swept over his handsome features. "The staff!" laughing with her, he swept her up for a moment and stole another kiss. As soon as he set her down his Darling grabbed his hand and pulled him through his chambers. Ansell laughing at how Belle took the lead when they raced down the hall and towards the stairs to his family.

Perhaps she always would.

 

-Fin-


	9. Whinging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last one shot "Perhaps She Always Would".

* * *

“Cogsworth,”

“We must formally alert the village!” Cogsworth was bustling and huffing about, a nonstop gust of hot air that was determined to get all of Ansell’s affairs in order immediately. “You’ll need to alert the farmers, they haven’t had a formal meeting regarding their crops in years-”

“Cogs-”

“What is this dreadful stationary!” He struck a footman with a stack of papers. “Everything is so outdated! We can’t be living in the past we must-”  
  
“COGSWORTH.”

Everyone turned to see Ansell staring at the head of the house in frustration. While the rest of the staff were going to their loved ones to celebrate, Cogsworth had thrown open the gates and demanded that work begin immediately.

“Cogsworth,” The prince, still barefoot and hardly dressed, padded across the ballroom. His staff had clustered into the room, people filtering in from where they had been previously stored. Anxious footmen no longer furniture and finding themselves at the mercy of the Englishman who was lame ting how outdated everything they were bringing to him was. “I adore you, but we _just_ became human again. Could we have some time to enjoy it?” catching movement outside past the balcony, Ansell caught Belle walking in the gardens with her father. The two deep in conversation, a conversation Belle had wanted to have with him alone regarding the new state of the castle and the large beast that had imprisoned her no longer being just that.

Ansell was nervous about the whole thing.

“WHERE'S MY HENRY?” A shrill voice came from outside, the rest of the former plates and candlesticks watching their old mantle clock pale for the first time in a decade.

“MASTER ANSELL.” Cogsworth grabbed the prince by the shirt and guided him towards the steps. “We can't have you out so scantily dressed!”

“But-”

Before the prince could argue, they were up the stairs. “Chapeau! The prince needs to be dressed!”

Lumiere and Plumette both watched the majordomo suspiciously.

Clothilde wandered in as he slipped out. “Has anyone seen Henry?”

* * *

“This is all… A lot… to take in.” Maurice told his daughter as they walked back up the steps of the castle.

“I agree, I'm learning a lot too.” She sighed heavily.

“But he's… That's really that big… hairy thing?”

Belle chuckled. “Yes, apparently he's our prince.”

“He's quite handsome.” Maurice mused out loud, catching the wistful look on his daughter's face. Her clear, silent agreement. Belle shivered, and he realized she was still just in her shift. “You look a bit chilly, do you have anything to change into here?”

“You're right.” Belle rubbed her arms. “I'll go put something on. Would you like me to take you to the library?”

* * *

Belle fastened her apron, smoothing out her skirt and going to the mirror. The bedroom was surprisingly quiet; devoid of snoring wardrobes and feather dusters that had excellent taste. Braiding her hair back and fastening it with a ribbon, she reached a hand up and inspected a bruise on her cheek that had formed from their fight with Gaston. Wincing, she checked her appearance, for the first time feeling mildly self conscious.

He was handsome. Ridiculously so.

Steeling herself, though all she saw in her imagination were bright blue eyes, a golden mane, and and absolutely kissable mouth. A royal, a beautiful prince ruling over her village. And she was but a farm girl. Belle drew in a deep breath and headed out. She had no idea what the day would be like, or what the conversations would be, but she hoped to get through it in one piece. And she hoped the butterflies in her stomach about being so would stop.

Heading towards the library, she heard sounds from the prince's chambers. Wandering down the hall,marveling that the angry stone gargoyles and ghouls wrapped in thorns were suddenly proud lions and Greek gods bound in flowers, Belle could hear complaining. Complaining that she knew all too well, just in the past it had been in a deeper tone.

“Cogsworth this is ridiculous.”

“Master you're a prince again-”

“Cogsworth I _just_ became a prince again. Can't you let me enjoy this moment?”

“People are going to want to see you! The world will want to know you're human again! The future Duke has returned! And you'll have so many meetings and parties and- goodness I must write to-”

The royal voice grumbled. “Writing letters has nothing to do with this discomfort.”

“Sir! You must get used to more… civilized aspects of society.”

With a wry smile creeping across her lips Belle crept up to the doors, a sliver of light shining in.

“Chapeau! Go see if you can have the footmen bring up his other chests of clothes. Something has to look fashionable.”

Before Belle could duck out of the way the door opened just as Ansell, precariously standing in a pair of shoes, slipped. The prince, hardly the calm and collected prince charming of her books, stumbled and hit the floor on his knees, letting out a startled bark.

About to snap at Cogsworth at his insistent nagging about wearing footwear, Ansell's face dropped when it found Belle’s tight lipped smile that was valiantly fighting back full blown laughter.

“Master, it'll just take time-” Cogsworth awkwardly reassured.

As Ansell struggled to get up with all the grace of a newborn foal, Belle headed towards him. “Cogsworth, could you step out for a moment?” She asked gently, watching the prince become red with embarrassment for the first time in years. As the majordomo scurried out, she walked over to the man sitting on the floor in defeat.

For a moment he didn't want to even look her in the eye. “I'm sure this is how you always imagined your prince in disguise.” He muttered. “On the floor bested by a pair of shoes.”

She giggled, doing her best not to do anything else, however, all fears and pangs of self consciousness towards him being too noble melted away. He was slouched and grumbling, and oh, she knew that slouch and that grumble so well.

The blue eyes darted over to her for a moment before dropping back to the floor.

Belle took a seat on the floor next to him.

“You must find this hilarious.” He grumbled, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“A little. But only because you're pouting.” reaching over, she rubbed his back and suddenly felt him relax to her touch. Listening to a rumble, possibly a purr, come from the prince Belle hesitated for a moment. It would take some getting used to; certain noises that were most certainly her beast coming from the man in front of her.

Scowling at the shoes, glittery heels of finely tooled leather, he glanced over to her, eyes only sheepishly making contact for a brief moment. “I can't wear shoes.” Ansel finally admitted, leaning in a bit to the back scratch.

“You're acting like I expect you to?” She replied, watching him huff a lock of hair out of his face. Stunned at her response, she continued. “B-Ansell, you've been barefoot for years. It must feel odd, if not terrible.”

“Terribly odd.” He groused. “I can't feel the floor, and they're so cramped. But everyone's going to insist I wear shoes and how could they not!” Ansell gestured in frustration to the door, curling his lip, inadvertently showing a hint of canine. “You can't just have a prince strutting around in silk stockings, now can you.”

Belle laughed.

Ansell scowled.

“Don't be over dramatic.” she chided lightly. Looking around the room, mind at work, her eyes landed on one of the great chests she had dug around looking for blankets when he had been injured by the wolves and needed fresh linens. “Those have a really big heel.” Getting up and walking over to the chest, she pulled it open.

Ansell lifted his head up in curiosity.

“I wouldn't even wear those.” Furrowing her brows in thought she picked through the silk bags of slippers and neat rows of stacked heels before  pulling out a pair of tall, dusty hunting boots. “Here we are.” Taking out a towel, she wiped them off while walking over. The was already kicking the heels off, and gladly accepted the flatter footwear. “Perhaps it's best if you just ease yourself back into some things? Work your way up to the more... complex… shoes.”

“As long as you're my advocate. I'm afraid I'm expected to be just as I was before the curse.” He grunted, pulling the boots on.

“We'll have to remind Cogsworth about the notion of an adjustment period.” Offering a hand, Belle helped Ansell up. Watching him wobble like a stilt-legged fawn, an arm swinging out for balance until he steadied himself, she worried for a moment the even the flat-soled boots were too much. “Maybe we can have a no-shoe rule for the library.” She suggested, eyes wandering up and down him. “So you don't have to feel obligated to be royal there.” He had been dressed in dark blue velvet breeches and coat with a dark gold silk waistcoat, hair neatly clubbed back with a blue bow. So strapping and strong.

“My shoeless haven.” he joked. Seeing the way she was looking at him, a lopsided smile slowly pulled across his handsome features. That particular look was going to take some getting used to. “What's running through your mind?”

Belle blushed, taking a step in. “How royal you look.”

“Really?” There was a hesitation, but he slid a hand over her hip. After the night they had endured it amazed him he could do such a thing.

“Yes.” reaching up Belle tucked the lock of hair that had fallen out of the tie behind and ear, “Princely and handsome.” Running her fingers along his jaw, she felt warm as he pulled her closer. “and yet, still such a _whiner_.”

His smile fell.

Belle laughed, kissing the tempting lips. “Don't complain about your shoes. It's only your first day.”

“I guess you're right.” Ansell kissed her back, nuzzling his nose against her cheek when he was finished. She smelled divine. “I'm sorry I'm not refined. I'm afraid I’m going to be rather awkward while I readjust.”

“That’s more than fine.” Smoothing her palm down his chest she pecked his nose. “I’m actually pretty used to you being awkward.”

“Are you always going to tease me?” He asked sweetly, wondering how he had gotten so lucky.

“If you keep whinging I have a good reason.” She wanted to hold him and stroke him and kiss him and do all sorts of inappropriate things to her very new prince. However, Belle bit her lip and refrained, stepping back and taking his hand. “Come on, I'm sure they're waiting for their prince.”

As they walked out of the royal chambers Ansell wobbled in his boots and had to catch himself.

Belle tried her best not to laugh at him.

-Fin-


	10. Deeply, Stupidly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running very late with NAHEA, so let's have a free chapter here.

“Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.” Ansell smiled tiredly as he walked out of his office. Landholders and those who leased his own lands filtered out, a hushed talk amongst themselves.

Belle smiled back, dark rims around her eyes. “I thought we might want to take the horses out and do a little more exploring.” Stifling back a yawn she watched him do the same.

His face, so expressive, frowned. “I wish I could. I have my levee in an hour.”

“Oh.”

“I'm sorry.” He sighed, stepping in. “It seems being human again means letters and meetings, and mountains of paperwork. Actually ruling.”

“I can have you for an hour at least.” Belle reasoned as they took off together, wishing it was more. The most time they had spent with one another was the day the curse had been lifted. Afterwards, she had returned home to be with her father and he had been swept up in Cogsworth's whirlwind of decade-long neglected royal duties. Their time together had been fleeting; meals and walks in the gardens with small jaunts beyond the castle’s expansive lands. And Belle desperately wanted more of him.

“I was thinking,” the prince began, turning to her as he opened the door. “and, talking to the staff. It's been a few days, however, we've yet to do anything to celebrate the curse lifting. Mrs. Potts suggested a nice meal for everyone and the kitchen is taking the idea and running wild with it. Would you and your father like to come? We're going to have every type of dish under the sun since it's been some time since anyone could taste anything or eat.” Shutting the door Ansell pulled off his boots. “Chef insists on a table fit for the king and Madame and Maestro also are adamant on some dancing.”

“I love the idea.” She said, taking off her own boots.

“Excellent.” He brightened. “And I can finally talk to your father.” Wriggling his toes he sighed, shucking off his coat and tossing it on a nearby bust of a Greek scholar.

Belle winced. “Yes he… needs to actually meet you.” She said tactfully. As good natured as he was, Maurice still had his suspicions about the prince of the province.

“I can't blame him if he hates me. I held his daughter captive for over a year.” Ansell reasoned tensely.

“I don't think he hates you, I just don't think he knows you.” Reaching out, Belle took his hand and pulled him over, kissing her prince softly.

Ansell slid a hand over and around her waist, pulling her closer when she gathered his face in her hands. Both kissed the other deeply, then suddenly passionately. His free hand wandered to her skirt, slipping between the space where her skirts were tucked in, finding a bloomer-covered thigh.

Reaching down with one hand she fumbled with the buttons of his silk waistcoat, looking for the laces to his breeches. Letting out a whimper and leaning into him, Belle reluctantly pulled back.

Breathless, Ansell pulled away and dropped his twitching, curling hands to his sides.

The pair both averted their eyes, blushing guiltily.

“I apologise.” He sputtered out. “I got carried away that was… inappropriate.” Ansel cleared his throat, trying with all his might to remain gentlemanly. It was difficult though. While the fervor of the first day had meant they found themselves constantly seeking one another’s touch, it also reminded them that he had just become human and they were rushing into things. And the prince, as eager to be with Belle as he was, also strived to do the respectable thing.

It was killing him.

Belle wet her lips, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Right.” She breathed, turning and taking a step back to keep herself from having her way. Between them both agreeing they needed to slow their relationship down and Ansell being pulled every which way to catch up on his responsibilities, she was going mad.

“I um… you know.” Ansell turned around to give himself a moment. Letting out an uncomfortable grunt, he took a deep breath and pulled at his breeches, trying to relieve his discomfort without having to excuse himself. “I ah… Well I was wanting to talk to your father about formally asking him if I could court you.”

Taking a deep breath, Belle wrapped her arms around herself to keep them away from temptation and raised a curious brow.

Ansell went and leaned against a table, exhaling through his nose with a huff. “I just want to do this right, because I’ve never done things proper and well… and this is how things are done. You talk to the father and ask for his blessing and pray to god he says yes.” Shaking his head he scowled. “And that he overlooks the fact you held his daughter captive for a year.”

“You’d really… we’d do this formally?”

“Of course we would.” His voice pitched in earnest. “I _love_ you. I’ve done things the wrong way for years.”

“You’re so sweet.” Belle agonized, plopping into an armchair and trying to push out all of the sordid ideas she was getting. “He’s here at the castle.”

“Ohhh.” Handsome face paling at the thought, turning around as the thought of even approaching Maurice was enough to kill any drive he had been fighting against.

Watching his face, the dread creeping into the blue eyes, Belle smirked.

He noticed the raised brow. “What?”

“You look terrified.”

“It’s justifiable, thank you very much.” On the defense, Ansell began to pace.

Her prince looked as if her father was the one who was a seven foot tall beast. “Would it help if I came?” The idea of a walk to distract herself sounded welcome. Especially if there was the slightest possibility Ansell would scare himself silly over her dear artist of a father. The more she spent time with the prince, the more she realized he was just as sweet and unsure as her beast. A little high strung, yet gentle, smart, and terribly awkward. The outside had only changed and what was left was a beautiful man who often appeared bewildered, fretful, and excited with the newness of being human again.

“Actually that sounds perfect.” Buttoning up his waistcoat, Ansell straightened himself out.and grabbed his coat. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.” As they approached the door, the prince offered a genteel arm, yet quickly pulled it away.

Nodding in agreement that perhaps it was safest if they didn’t touch, Belle followed him out and down the stairs.

“Henry?” Clothilde’s voice came from the breakfront.

“I think it’s safe to say Cogsworth is trying to avoid that woman.” Ansell said out of the side of his mouth.

“I don’t blame him.” She mumbled back.

Raising his brows to the statement, he could feel his palms begin to sweat at the sight of Maurice sketching in the hallway. Straightening his posture, trying to appear graceful, mature, and in control, he amused Belle to no end as he walked over. “Monsieur Dujardin?” He asked, voice deepening and becoming more authoritative.

Maurice looked the prince over, giving him a slight head nod. “Your Grace. What do I owe the honor?”

“Mrs. Potts, ‘ave you seen Henry Cogsworth?” a distant voice asked impatiently.

“I um- I was wondering if you would take a walk with me.” Clearing his throat he nodded down the hall and to the door that lead to the gardens; clasping his hands behind his back to  keep himself from fidgeting.“We have a rather beautiful rose garden, and I was hoping to talk to you about some things.”

Skeptical, Maurice shut his sketchbook with an audible clap. Eyes shifting between the prince who was trying to appear not as nearly as nervous as he was, and his somewhat entertained daughter, he pursed his lips in thought. “Sure, after you.”

Walking down the hall, sun making the marble glow, Ansell clasped his hands behind his back and glanced over to Belle. His beloved giving him an encouraging, prompting look. “Monsieur-”

“Please, Maurice.” He corrected swiftly.  

“Maurice.” Taking a deep breath, Ansell mouth felt as if he had swallowed a mouthful of sand. “I wanted to talk to you about my intentions with your daughter.”

“I see.”

Such a tepid reaction sent the prince’s nerves on fire. What if he said no? What on earth would he do then? He certainly couldn’t break the man’s orders if he was rejected. What in god’s name had he been _thinking_. He should have just carried on with Belle without being so stuck in his desire to be so damn proper. It was the stupidest thing he had ever done.

Maurice furrowed his brows in question to the silent prince who was slowing melting down into anxiety. “Your Grace?”

“YOUR GRACE!”

Head whipping around, Ansell watched as Cogsworth came racing over as fast as his bad knees and cane could carry him. “Cogsworth?”

“I’ll try to find Henri for you.” Mrs. Potts could be heard near the front door.

Sweating buckets, the Englishman dabbed his face with a handkerchief. “Oh Master, you must get dressed for the levee.”

Stiffening, there was a flash of defiance in Ansell. “I’m just fine the way I am.”

“Oh heavens no!” Nervously stealing a glance back at the entryway, he huffed under his moustache. “This is the first levee in over a decade! Your subjects are expecting a prince! Not a pauper!”

Looking down at his elaborately embroidered grey suit, Ansell drew a brow towards Cogsworth. “I don’t see how-”

“Come, come! Chapeau has your summer wardrobe in your chambers and we’ve found your powder-”

Raising a palm up to stop him from blustering off into a list of accoutrements that a prince _must_ wear, Ansell scowled, suddenly becoming less the lovesick young man and more the assertive young prince. “Cogsworth you can stick me in a suit but I will not wear that stupid makeup or my dreadful wig.”

“But Sire!”

Folding her arms, Belle’s chocolate eyes went between the two men.

“It’s too hot! I’ll feel like I’m melting under all that frippery.” Ansell began to growl in annoyance at the thought of it. However, Belle began to look reproachful and he quickly curbed his behavior. “I’m sure I’ll look stately without them. And I’ve been working on acting less a fool and more a leader. I promise.”

“Has anyone seen Cogsworth?” Mrs. Potts could be heard.

Shaking his head in disagreement, Cogsworth perked as he realized their audience. “Maurice! Just the man we should be talking to. In fact, this is the perfect time to have a walk and talk about the plan. A walk outside, perhaps near the tall hedges.”

“Where one can't be seen?” Belle offered knowingly.

Befuddled artist tilted his head to the side, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “There’s a plan?”

Everyone gazed at Cogsworth for an answer.

“For the royal wedding of course!”

The words hit not only Ansell, but Belle as well, like a harpsicode from one of the balconies. The pair quickly lost all color in their faces, and the prince’s mouth slipped open. Blue eyes widening like dinner plates with the French countryside carefully painted on them he floundered from a lack of words forming in his mind.

“Excuse me?” Maurice blurted, quickly turning to his daughter and her prince for an explanation to the madness.

Belle, silent, looked downright ill. She gazed over at Ansell uneasily.

“Cogsworth!” Ansell blurted, wanting to run as Maurice’s eyes began to burrow into him.

“Master!” He blustered. “Surely you haven’t thought about it? You and Belle broke the curse because of love. You’re not to marry anyone else, correct?”

Fumbling for the something, anything to say Ansell could feel his stomach knotting itself over and over again. “Well… I mean no-”

“You two must be married at once! It’ll be such a fine event! We must start on the invitations-”

“What-” Belle mumbled in shock.

“And Mademoiselle will need a dressmaker, and you a tailor! We’ll spare no expense.” Puffing his chest out, a pleased smile filled Cogsworth’s face as he dreamt of the day. “Especially for our Princess-to-be. It’ll be the finest-”

“I’m sorry, _marriage_ ?” Maurice interjected, scoffing. “I just met this- this- this _boy_ and now you’re telling me he has to marry my daughter?”

“I’m not saying that!” Ansell defended quickly, desperately wanting to crawl into a cupboard and promptly die. “I wasn’t here to ask for Belle’s hand!”

“Then why does it sound like it?” He retorted sharply.

“Is no one going to listen to me about planning the nuptials?” Cogsworth said, absolutely annoyed. “This is not how things are done! They must marry immediately to secure Belle’s title as Princess before-”

“There are no nuptials!” Losing his temper, Ansell snapped frantically, his anxiety in full swing.

“Does anyone care I’m actually standing here and the one everyone keeps talking about marrying off?” Gaining the attention of the men with her sharp reminder, Belle snorted in frustration. “I’m sorry to butt in, however, I think I should have a say in this.”

Cogsworth tweaked the tip of his moustache. “We need to have a wedding-”

“Goodness where is that bloody man.” Mrs. Potts said angrily. “He needs to break up with that-”

“Master Anselme you were looking for a wife the night the curse was placed on us!” He said hurriedly. “Now let us go to the gardens and speak about this next step for you and Mademoiselle Belle.”

Belle turned slowly to Ansell, silently asking for an explanation.

Mouth opening, no words came out. Making a string of sounds Ansell finally remembered to speak through the terror tightening his chest and making short work of his tongue. “Maybe?”

How was he that big of a moron.

Belle slowly grimaced.

“I mean, yes- yes I was.” His instincts told him to run, yet his weak knees screamed otherwise. “I needed to marry, and… maybe I still do- but that’s not the point! I have no intentions of marrying Belle so quickly.” Gesturing to Belle he caught his breath. “Monsieur, I love your daughter. I love her deeply, _stupidly_ . She can attest I become the biggest, clumsiest fool you’ve ever seen when she looks at me. I just wanted to ask for your blessing to court her. _Formally_. We can talk about marriage later! But I want to just… do this right?”

The silence was defining as Maurice looked the lad up and down carefully.

Forgetting how to breath, the prince’s eyes darted wildly from Belle, who was none too pleased, to Maurice, who was extremely skeptical.

As much as he loved him, he wanted to wring Cogworth’s neck.

“Monsieur,” he sighed, shoulders sinking “I’m not worthy of Belle. Truly, I’m not. As you’re well aware at this point, I can be a bit of a bastard. And I know it’s stupid to even think that you would be alright with us seeing one another after all I’ve done, but please consider it. I don’t want to rush into a marriage, I just want to enjoy courting your daughter. We can figure the rest out later.”

He gave Belle the most plaintive, tender face. Loving and sweet and mortified and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had a heart attack when it was all said and done.

“Besides, I couldn’t force your daughter to marry me if I tried.” Ansell muttered. “I don’t think anyone can force her into anything.”

Maurice chuckled ever so slightly, still sizing up the prince. “Well, you’re better than the last one who told me he was going to marry her.”

His daughter raised a curious brow.

“You have my blessing.” Speaking firmly he swore the prince was nearly ready to fall to the floor with relief. “However, don’t bring up this talk of a wedding again. I’m still getting used to-” Gesturing to the entire castle Maurice’s eyes widened. “Everything, really.”

“Henry?” A voice shrilly called out.

Cogsworth took Ansell by the sleeve. “Well since we’re not discussing your marriage we _must_ get you upstairs and dressed.”

Ansell was too stressed to dig in his heels. In a nerve-induced stupor he was dragged along, following the majordomo blindly towards the staircase and wanting to collapse.

“COGSWORTH.” Mrs. Potts got in front of the men, blocking the Englishman’s escape route. “Have you no shame?”

“Mrs. Potts!” He blustered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh come off it.” Nodding towards the door she glared at him reproachfully. “You go talk to that woman right now. Quit playing the coward and get it over with.”

“Coward? Why I never-”

“Cogsworth, you’ve been avoiding her for three bloody days. Quit using that poor boy as an excuse and get over there _now._

Glaring at her, boundlessly offended, Cogsworth straightened his spine and released his captive. Puffing up his chest and making sure his wig was tidy he strutted off. “Afraid? Me? Hmf!”

As soon as he was out of sight he let a fearful frown show.

Shaking her head at him, Mrs. Potts came over to Ansell. “Come on, Master. Let’s get you a bracing cuppa and ready for the levee.” glancing down she added “Where on Earth are your boots?”

As Ansell disappeared, Belle awkwardly turned to her father. “So we were invited to dinner.”

  
-Fin-


	11. Outnumbered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about a one-shot for me being sooo late on NAHEA?

“MAMA.”

Belle groaned, wincing at her son's little yet mighty cry as Ansell stirred on the other side of their bed.

“MAAAAAMAAAAAA.”

“Nooo.” She moaned into her pillow. “Go back to sleep.” Hearing the thud of little feet landing on the floor and the creak of the nursery door, she sighed heavily. “Henriiiii.”

“Nightmares again?” Ansell yawned.

"MAMAAAA?"

“I just want to sleep.” Frowning in exhaustion, she curled up even tighter. “This one finally stopped kicking.”

Blinking slowly, Ansell scooted over and sat up, reaching around and petting her round stomach. Their soon-to-be second child stretching and rolling inside, awakened by the commotion. “Sorry, Darling.”

“It's not your fault.” She said tiredly, feeling his fingers in her hair, mildly annoyed at being touched when she wanted to simply get some rest. The bedroom door opened with a creak and she heard her son trundle in, fussy and frightened.

"Mama?"

Ansell swung over to his side of the bed “Henri-”

Henri hurried over as fast as his nearly three-year-old legs could carry him. Dragging a stuffed lion behind him, his father could make out in the string of sleepy words “S’cared”, “dawk”, and “mon’tur”.

Scooping his boy up, he kissed the crop of wild brown hair as Henri settled into sniffles. “It's alright, petit homme. There’s no need to fuss now, hm? Papa's the biggest beast, no one's getting you.” Rubbing the small back while Henri hugged him tight, Ansell set him on the bed and yawned once more.

The boy crawled over his mother's legs and snuggled into her, making Belle grunt at having his elbow near her ribs. Suddenly Ansell was behind her, a heavy arm draping over her. Patting her belly sleepily he rested his hand on the curve and sighed, blowing hot air against her nape as Henri did the same against her neck.

Effectively pinned, the brown eyes shut tight while she shifted uncomfortably. Her son forcefully cuddling, Ansell's warm body pressed against her back, and the baby kicking her insides and pushing its head against her lungs. Laying sandwiched between the two, she stared at the window, grimacing at all of the unwanted, stifling contact as the stars winked and the drapes rustled.

"Ansell," She whispered. "Could you please stop? You're heavy."

Mumbling in his sleep he scooted closer, both of her men out like lights. Curse them.

"If you don't move I'm calling you Beast." She threatened quietly, not wanting to wake up her previously fussy son.

Her husband pulled her nearer just as Henri shoved his head under her chin.

"Leave me alooone." Wriggling, the pair only got closer.

Ansell sighed, hand brushing her stomach and startling the unborn child. Making it shift as Henri gripped her nightgown and grunted, eyelids fluttering.

"You twooo." She scowled into her pillow.

Attempting to doze for some time, she finally gave up in frustration; reaching around and pushing her husband away.

Awaking with a start, he sat up in confusion as she carefully untangled their little boy and moved him towards his father. “Wha-”

“I can't sleep like this.” She growled testily, getting up slowly and grabbing her robe. “You two are making everything worse.”

Frowning at the declaration, Henri rolled over onto his back and spread his limbs out like a starfish on a wet rock, lion flopping to the side as he struck Ansell's leg with a tiny foot. “Belle where are you-”

“Library.” Cutting him off, she snatched her pillow and headed to the door. “Stay with him, I'll see you in the morning.”

Ansell’s shoulders slouched as he watched the door clap shut. Rubbing the back of his neck he glanced down at his dreaming son.

* * *

Henri was snoring softly on Ansell's stomach, the toddler content to have one of his parents keeping him safe from the darkness of the night before. 

Watching the door, idly rubbing his son's back as the sun rose, he sighed. Glancing over to the empty space on the other side of the bed, the father furrowed his brows in thought. Henri was a handful at two, nearly three. Sweet and gentle, he was still a toddler full of energy and curiosity. And as big as he tried to be he was desperately in need of his parent's loving arms and soothing voices. As much as Ansell wanted to be home more and helping, he had work. Which meant Belle and Maurice dealt with their busy little one, and Henri often sought out Belle who was more harried than usual.

The boy's lip quivered as he let out a whimper, legs shuffling in sleep, kicking Ansell in an area he preferred avoided. 

Slowly, carefully getting up, he gathered Henri into his arms and padded off to deposit him in the nursery.

* * *

 “I’m awake, you can come in.”

Having peeked into the library, Maurice walked in to find his daughter sitting in her rocker by the fire she had freshened with a few logs. Noticing the blankets and pillows on the couch, he headed over. “Take it you spent the night?”

“Henri came to bed in the middle of the night and between him and Ansell both suffocating me I had to get out of there.” Watching her father push her bedding away, she got up and went to him, holding her achy back and taking a seat next to him on the couch. “They’re so warm and heavy, and I have someone already in my space.” Sighing, she looked down at her belly tiredly. “I think the due date’s wrong. Henri wasn’t this big and busy.”

“Well, they said it was a guess.” He reminded her, happy to have another grandchild but never enjoying seeing his daughter so uncomfortable. Catching her wince and lean forward, Maurice stiffened.

Belle let out a puff of air, wrapping an arm around her swollen abdomen. “I’m fine, I think it was a knee.”

“You know, you were just as feisty,” Maurice announced as Belle took his hand and placed it to where there was a strong push of a limb. “Drove your mother mad, she was more than happy to have you out just so she could have some respite from all your kicking and punching.” Rubbing the spot, he smiled. “So you can’t blame him for this, it’s from your side.”

Laughing tiredly, she looked her father in the eye. “He tries. Sometimes he tried _too_ hard, but he does try.”

“He’s turned out well. You _both_ did. Big house, respectable members of the community, an _extremely_ happy little boy who is unbelievably loved. I’m proud of you both for doing so well.”

“I just don’t need to be piled onto, three boys all over me is too much.”

“So it’s a boy?” He raised a brow.

Belle fiddled with the sash of her house robe. “It’s just a feeling.” She hedged.

“Ah, well then.” Squeezing her hand he heard footsteps at the door. “I’m so sorry you’re completely outnumbered.”

“I’m used to boys at this point.” Belle looked over to the open door to see Ansell lingering in it, Henri leaning against him and clutching the side of his breeches.

“I should go, our big brother will need his breakfast.” Rising stiffly Maurice nodded to Ansell as Belle turned.

“Sweetheart-” She called out.

Her toddler scurried over, dressed in his clothes for the day by his Papa. “Mama, 'morn-ing.”

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Lifting him up, he settled into what lap she had left. “Did you sleep well with Papa?” Eyeing her husband who hesitated entering, she kissed her baby boy’s crown and patted his back as he rubbed his eyes. “Mama feels a little bad about being such a grouch last night.”

“I’m sorry we made your night worse.” He apologized sheepishly, walking over to his family. “Did you sleep well at least?”

“I did.” She kissed and nuzzled Henri, getting a giggle for her work. “And I know you two are only doing it out of love. It’s just I already feel invaded.” Setting him down, he wandered over and asked for Grandpapa who scooped him up and took him to the kitchen. Rising with some effort, she met her husband halfway. "I'm sorry."

“We’ll be more mindful.” Taking her hand, he was glad when she moved in and kissed him. Turning sideways, she leaned against him, allowing to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “We just love you to pieces, you know.”

“I know, but I need some space.” Sighing, she nestled closer. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d made a little beast.”

Chuckling, he kissed her forehead. “Thank heavens that’s not the case. Though I did hear something about a boy.”

“Just a feeling.”

“And what’s our son’s name?” Voice soft and tender, while he dreamed of a little brown-eyed girl another healthy boy sounded lovely.

“Bernard, I think.” feeling him smile she pulled back and was the recipient of a proud kiss.

“Bernard. After Lumiere.” He noted, pleased with the notion. “Well, I think I’m going to have to scold him for being so busy when he arrives.” Listening to her laugh, he hugged her. “I’m sorry our little Bernard keeps you up, however, I am very grateful you two are well.” He said softly.

“Me too.”

“It’s all I really want for you two. Now, can I get my Darlings anything?” he said gently into the chestnut colored hair. “I can have a service tray in here before I leave so you can get some more rest. And the baby’s already dressed and ready for the morning. Father will take over with him if you need a little more time.”

“I should stretch and go to the kitchen.” moving away, Belle rubbed the side of her stomach to try to settle the child.

“Well, I made a pot of oatmeal and went out and bought croissants. Whipped up some bacon and eggs so you can have whatever he’s craving.”

“I really do appreciate you.” She told him, walking to the kitchen.

“I rather like being non-traditional. Means I have more time with my family.” Walking over to Henri sitting on Maurice’s knee, he grinned at his son.

“Papa.” Henri beamed, a mouthful of egg threatening to fall out of his mouth and onto the floor.

Bending over, he kissed the top of his son’s head, gently lifting his chubby chin to keep the breakfast from making a mess. “I’ll see you later, mon petit homme.”

“Bye bye.” His son waved.

Ansell nodded to his father in law. “Space.”

Nodding his head in agreement he helped Henri as he reached for the fork. “Have a good day, son.”

“You as well.” Turning, he went over and kissed Belle. It was long and loving, breaking away he smiled against her mouth. “I know it’s useless telling you, but do try to take it easy? It’s your day off after all.”

“I can’t promise anything.” She pecked, his hand cupping her cheek.

Smoothing the pad of his thumb across her jaw, Ansell pressed his lips to the space between the brown eyes. “I know, but it’s worth a shot.” Chin tilting down, he gently rubbed his hand across the side of her stomach, fingers spreading out and finding where feet were pushing. “And you in there. Be good, Bernard. Take a nap once in awhile.”

Belle laughed.

He chuckled himself. “I have to try. He’s my son after all.”

 

-fin-


	12. Grandpapa

“You know, you're supposed to keep it in.” Maurice told his grandson as he watched Henri stick his fat little tongue out. The motion effectively pushing out a glob of oatmeal which dribbled down his chin. “I'm beginning to doubt you understand the mechanics of all of this.”

Henri, who was wearing half of his breakfast, smiled up at Grandpapa.

Maurice chuckled, shaking his head slowly. Having taken up the job of feeding Henri his breakfasts, he found his memory jogged. Remembering his little girl, far more a firecracker than her own son was, flinging mashed peas and smearing her sticky hands on his clothes.

Grunting and smacking his lips he reached for the spoon. “Oo.”

“No, the spoon isn't yours.” Carefully dodging a chubby hand he took another spoonful and lifted it up. “You'll just drop it on the ground and my back can only take that so many times.”

Opening his mouth like an eager baby bird, Henri clamped down on the spoon. “Mmm.”

“She's going to be gone all day you know. You can't just cheat and have milk.” He told the baby as the sound of footsteps came from the staircase.

“I just don't think they'll care enough about my proposal-” Belle's voice carried from the hall. 

“Of course they will. Your last one was successful.” Ansell's voice replied as they came into the kitchen. “That, and this town actually listens to women and their ideas. An incredibly novel thing.” Seeing his son, he smiled. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

 “Good morning.” Maurice watched as his son in law went over to the baby and kissed the top of his head.

 “I think you got a bit of something on you, son.” Ansell joked into the top of Henri’s fluffy scalp.

 Henri cooed, wriggling happily in his high chair.

 “Be good, piglet.”

 “Thank you for watching him,” Belle told her father appreciatively.

 "It's not a problem,” Maurice reassured, stirring the little cup of oatmeal. “Aside from being my grandson, we get along quite well. And when you go back to work full time we'll be together a lot longer than we are now. I need to get used to it.”

Belle had to do a double take at her messy boy. Laughing, she came over. “Oh, Henri. That's not how breakfast is supposed to go.”

Brows furrowing in thought, Henri tentatively reached down and picked up a large mass of milk soaked oats. His tiny fist squishing it as he held it up to his mother and gazed at her promptingly.

“I'm having breakfast later but thank you.” She told her baby sweetly, gently pushing the chubby fist down. Pulling a towel out of the waistband of her apron and using it to tidy him up.

“Those have certainly come in handy since he's arrived.” Maurice noted as Ansell had a quick coffee. 

“Especially since he's started eating.” Belle kissed a  clean cheek. “You should try keeping it all in, Sweetheart. It works better.” running her fingers through her son's crop of wavy hair, she smiled into his sweet smelling scalp. “You be good.” 

* * *

Peeling the sticky, oat smeared gown off of Henri Maurice grimaced in the nursery had had personally painted months before his grandson's arrival. “Alright, let's freshen you up, Mon petit homme.”

Henri sighed dramatically as if the gown had been confining his impressively full belly. Wriggling, Grandpapa set him in his crib and gave him a rattle to satisfy his teething. He was all bright eyes and baby fat, watching Maurice curiously.

Opening the dresser he dug through the neat stacks of nappies, blankets, booties, and other assorted bits of clothing. “I'll just… hmm.” Furrowing his brows, he glanced over to the hamper where every last one of the gowns was magnificently stained and waiting for a wash. “Well… umm.”

Gurgling, Henri dropped the toy and found his thumb to suck, mumbling as Grandpapa returned.

Taking a fresh blanket off of the crib railing, he gathered his boy up. “What Maman doesn't know won't hurt.” Wrapping him loosely in the blanket, he clasped his hand over the round tummy, tickling it. Well aware their little boy was getting ready for a growth spurt. “You poor boy, we starve you.” He kissed, listening to a happy, tummy jiggling giggle. “Come on, let's go work.”

* * *

Henri grabbed his own toes as he laid on his back in the playpen in the living room, babbling softly as Maurice worked on a sketch. Twisting and wriggling, he passed the time with the little wooden mobile dangling above him; batting at hand carved castles, roses, teapots, clocks, and candelabras. Spoiled rotten, he had a selection of rattles, stuffed dolls, and other toys as he rolled over and stretched on his tummy, grabbing and chewing on things. Clumsily crawling to one if the posts he eyed his grandfather and let out a squawk when he failed to sit up on his own.

 “Coming.” Setting down his materials Maurice shuffled over and gathered the baby up. “What's your problem, hm? I just changed you and we had a thrilling game of peek-a-boo before that, what more could you want?”

As Maurice sank back into the chair Henri rolled into him and grunted, nuzzling.

His grandpapa smiled warmly, the baby’s dark blue eyes gazing up at him. “I suppose we're due for a good snuggle.” Shifting Henri into one arm, he helped the boy sit on his lap, back propped up in the crook of his arm. His grandson was a champion cuddler, and more often than naught was happiest perched in someone's arms. “You know, one of these days you'll get too big for this. And we're all going to be sad about it.” Patting the diapered rump, he helped Henri find his string of coral teething beads as the other fat fist clung to his waistcoat. “I think your father the most, he’s a bigger fan of cuddling than most people in the village would suspect.”

Resting his head on Maurice, the curious child watched the other hand pick up a small book.

Finding his place Maurice took a deep breath. “I know Voltaire isn't your usual but to be honest I'm getting a little tired of your puppy book.”

Smiling as he gnawed and teethed Henri settled in as Maurice's voice, calm and steady, read aloud.

* * *

“Shhh.”

Cheek smooshed on Maurice's shoulder as he rocked his grandson in the darkened nursery, the baby yawned and mumbled. Having stuffed himself silly with a lunch of mashed foods, he drifted off easily to his preferred lullaby about moments lasting forever.

“That's a boy.” Turning and smiling against the crop of chestnut hair, Maurice shut his eyes in contentment. Raising Belle on his own he had occasionally been too terrified, out of his depth, or overworked to enjoy some of the quieter moments with her. Having them with his grandson was divine. “I'm so glad you're not a prince.” He whispered softly. “We get to have you all to ourselves.” hearing a soft snore, Maurice reluctantly set the boy in his crib, draping a blanket over the child. Watching it promptly be kicked and bunched down before he headed down stairs to get some work done during nap time.

* * *

“Well you did a wonderful job and I'm immensely proud,” Ansel exclaimed as he shut the door. Helping Belle out of her cloak, he hung it, his hat, and his good coat.

“I couldn't have done it without you. We make quite the team.” She said, stomping her boots on the mat.

“I had nothing of importance to say. I was simply the pretty face offering you an elbow. “

“Well, you're good at it.” Taking off to the kitchen, husband trailing behind, Belle was eager to check on her son. Despite being driven up a wall due to being confined to the house when he was newborn, it was still difficult to leave him even though he was bigger and more equipped to be away from her.

“It's nice my prince charming good looks can still be used to this day.”

“Prince charming?”

“Oh, let me have it.”

“Prince Charming didn't have a beard.” Belle reminded as she entered the room to find it empty. A dirty plate and fork

"Prince Charming would have grown one if his wife would have asked him to." A dirty plate and fork were in the wash bin, and a towel soiled with mashed food was crumpled nearby. Pursing his lips he looked to her. "A bit early."

Raising a brow they quietly left the kitchen, heading to the living room.

With the warmth of a blazing fire, Maurice had fallen asleep in his chair. Dozing and open mouthed, Henri slept with him in the crook of an arm. The pair peaceful and clearly worn out. A pile of toys on a blanket on the couch, a sketchbook errantly cast on a coffee table, the faint whiff of a dirty diaper that had been changed.

Smiling slowly, Belle walked over. Her son roused first, yawning and heaving as he stretched. The movement waking her father. “Hello, Monsieurs. Busy day?”

Reaching for her, her son yawned mightily. More than ready to have some time with his mother, he wriggled and gurgled needily, letting out a fussy whimper.

“Very busy.” Maurice handed his grandson over as he winced at the crick in his neck.

"Sounds about right. Hi, Sweetheart." Smoothing her hand up and across his head, she kissed his nose and grinned against her son's sweet face. "I missed you too."

Beaming sleepily, her boy giggled as he received a smattering of kissed. Nuzzling and hugging her tightly as Papa swooped in and stole a kiss too. Belle took him to the couch and set him in her lap, playing with his toes and kissing his hair and asking him about his day. Cooing and grinning, Henri patted her dress and nuzzled in. Snuffling at the promising scent of milk. Kneading and whining hungrily.

“Gracious, Henri. Is that all you missed me for?” She rolled her eyes, adjusting him to an arm as he began to root. “Where do you put it all?” She began to untie the front of her dress. “No problems?”

“A little fussy before naptime but otherwise our good boy per usual.” He blinked tiredly, reaching for his glasses that rested carefully on a side table.

“Good. And easy, there.” she chuckled, her boy readily latching as soon as the breast was offered. “There's plenty for your second dinner, I promise.”

Ansell smirked while he pulled the ribbon out of his hair. “That poor piglet, he's all skin and bones. What on Earth do his parents have to say for themselves?”

“Sooo malnourished,” Belle said dryly, a hand giving a fat thigh a gentle squeeze. “I'm sorry we didn't relieve you earlier.”

“It's quite alright.”

“Your daughter was in demand.” Ansell exhaled as he went over to the side board and poured himself a glass of wine. “I simply stood there and smiled prettily. Went and talked to some of the other wives about plants they're discovering in India, it was rather nice.”

Maurice watched his daughter roll her eyes as Ansell poured a brandy next. “So the proposal went well?”

“Very. Here you are, father.” Walking over he handed his father-in-law the glass of wine before retiring to the couch.

“Thank you, Son.”

“We have to draft plans for the building, but yes.” She beamed. “It won't be anything fancy, but it will be so much bigger. And, I think we can manage an addition to the library to serve the community better.”

“Wonderful."

“We were also invited to an early dinner with the council members. Which is why we're late.”

“And how was that?”

“Nice, I never get to talk and catch up with everyone.when I'm working.” She explained. “And it's always refreshing to have a conversation with an actual adult or one with an adult without a baby on my hip.”

“And it ran later than we had hoped because of all of the conversation.” Ansell sipped. “That said, it's nice to come home to you two. Did you manage to get any work done or was he in dire need of attention?”

“I got enough in during nap time. He needs to be kept busy at this age. Belle was the same.” He watched Ansell smile at the notion of their son taking after his wife. “She was always so curious and yet so cuddly. Couldn't put her down for more than a few minutes.”

“I believe it. She's still rather curious and cuddly.” Ignoring the look he was being served Ansell crossed one leg over the other. “I heard some news from France, by the way. It seems in the spring the Dauphin is marrying the Archduchess from Austria, Marie-Antoinette.”

“Sounds like a big to do.” Maurice sipped his wine. “Do you know if your family will be in attendance?”

“No, unfortunately. But, one can assume so as they do love a good excuse to buy new clothes and kiss some Dauphin's ass.” he said dryly. “If we would have gone Belle's dress would have been worth more than the house.”

“I would have fallen over from the size of the wigs they're all wearing now.” She told them, gently running a finger over Henri’s knuckles as he kneaded and fed. Her boy reaching out and grasping her fingers, big eyes watching her. “Besides, it would have meant we'd have a title and a certain someone was a prince.”

“That's not happening,” Ansell grumbled, still a touch protective of his darlings and royal society.

“I hear everyone is excited about the marriage,” Belle told them. “They're all over the King, ready for a new one that promises change.”

“They said the same thing when the old one came of age and began ruling.” Maurice scoffed. “Louis the Beloved. And then what happened? He disappointed them all with the wars he lost and the brothels he maintained.”

“Both of which are ridiculously expensive,” Ansell muttered, blue eyes fixated and intense. “But the point is no one's terribly happy with royalty in France at the moment. And we're not there, thankfully.”

“Do you really think we would have ruled the province in a way that would have upset people?” Belle asked shrewdly.

“No, but there's anger towards even those who take care of their people. And it's all so messy.” He explained, frowning. “Who knows if these two will actually do any good when they become king and queen? Will they make any change to the taxes and French Court? They could be helpful. They could do the opposite. Everyone likes to talk about change, no one likes doing it.”

“And the rich hate you for it.” Belle finished.

“It always takes me aback when I hear you talk about French politics, Ansell. You're such an optimistic man in every other aspect.” Maurice replied.

“Firsthand experience.” He admitted tersely. “They'd have to drag me back kicking and screaming.”

“Same. Luckily it's behind us.” Belle muttered at the thought.

"And now we're simply boring middle-class people," Ansell commented cheekily. 

"You two are a little above middle-class." Maurice corrected him.

"Upper middle-class then. Still very boring according to some people who don't know I can speak German."

“You should get over it." Belle told him. "You got to insult them in French while standing right next to them."

"Ah, yes. That was quite nice."

"Ansell, he's just about done.” Henri’s eyes bobbed as she carefully removed him. He laid on his back in her arms, swollen milk belly being kissed by Maman as he sighed and smacked his lips drowsily. “Oh Henri, I hope it was as good as you make it look.” She laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Papa's right to call you a piglet."

“Well, that's all mine.” Lifting his son up, he listened to a stray burp, sleepy eyes finding him. “Look at you, piglet. Did you get enough to fill up that impressive tummy of yours?”

Henri yawned, letting out another burp as he was placed on his father's shoulder. Murmuring softly, drowsily, he pawed at an eye.

“I swear you're all snacking and naps.” Kissing Henri’s scalp he went and climbed the stairs towards the nursery. “Let's get you ready for bed, growing boy. Maybe we can get you to sleep in the nursery tonight. That's probably wishful thinking-”

Maurice smiled as the boys disappeared. “I don't think he cares for his son much.”

Lacing her dress back up Belle laughed tiredly. “They gave him such a funny look when we started talking about children. I don't think anyone was ready to hear about his pre-bedtime storytime skills.”

“Ah, he's really proud of that one.”

“He is, he had a good mentor.” She said in amusement. “And thank you again. Sometimes we need to get out of the house.” getting up she went towards the kitchen. “Would you like some tea for after your wine?”

“No dear, I'm fine.”

Passing by Belle stopped and reached down, hugging her father and kissing the side of his head. “Thank you for teaching us.”

“Thank you for my grandson.”

-Fin-


	13. Me Too

Passing her the cup, Ansell began to take a seat in the chair next to the bed but was quickly pulled onto it. Without any protesting he allowed Belle to push him around until he was helping her feel comfortable. Sitting between his legs she leaned back against his chest, sipping her tea.

“You alright?” He asked, reaching over and taking the cloth on the tray he had brought in, dipping it into a basin of water.

“You’re the perfect angle.” She sighed, hearing the excess water patter back into the basin as the cool cloth dabbed the back of her neck. Setting the cup aside, she shut her eyes. "And that feels amazing right now."

“Good. I like to be of some use, even if it’s just a chair.” setting the cloth aside Ansell reached up and untied her braid which was messy from her long day of pacing and laboring. Carefully combing it out with his fingers he made a valiant effort to resecure it into a neat braid. Ever determined to be of some kind of use, no matter how small. “And the midwives are coming back in the morning?”

“They said unless the pains come close together I need to wait.” She grumbled, fanning her hands out over her overdue belly, cursing the lateness. “Your baby’s taking its time.”

“You’ve been laboring since last night.” The father-to-be fretted, worrying the hem of her robe as she was in the loosest clothes possible for comfort.

Taking a hand, Belle kissed his knuckles and sighed tiredly. “It happens, apparently.”

“I wish I could do this part.” He kissed against her shoulder, feeling her relax and place his hands on her stomach.

“Be careful what you wish for. I’m sure there’s an enchantress somewhere that could help you with the next one.” placing her hands atop of his own Belle shut her eyes. “Oof.”

It was clear she was only slightly kidding. “I can’t believe there’s going to be three of us.” He smiled against the back of her head, the cool light of the late spring moon basking them in soft light, candlelight flickering over their faces as he was grateful for forcing himself to have a quick, a stiff drink before going to see Belle. There was a certain peace, a calm before the chaos. Fleeting but welcome to the anxious father who's nerves had been somewhat soothed by the measure of whiskey. “We get to meet her-or-him.”

“You’re pretty set on a girl.” feeling his hands move to her lower back, thumb rolling into the knot that was forming from the weight of her baby, Belle groaned softly.

“I want a little you to get into trouble with.” listening to a small laugh escape, feeling her shake her head, Ansell smiled mischievously. “Any daughter of ours will be just as feisty as you, you know.”

“So you’re telling me we have a troublemaker already?”

“Just a possible accomplice. Do you need a foot rub, Darling?”

“No, I need you right where you are.” She sighed, shifting her weight and running her hand down the length of her stomach as she let out a puff of air.

“Kicking?”

“No, feels like she’s a lot lower but she’s wiggling.”

“So a girl then.” Pleased as punch, Ansell listened to her tone change.

“Don’t get your hopes up, I just use she sometimes. We don’t know.” Feeling more settled from the back rub, Belle massaged the side of her stomach in thought. “Speaking of not knowing, we haven’t chosen a boy’s name yet.” Feeling her husband frown against the top of her shoulder Belle smiled, mildly amused by his hesitation. Her big, occasionally ferocious husband, intimidating by the prospect of a tiny, helpless son. “Come on, what if it’s a boy? We can’t call him Beatrice.”

“But a girl-”

“You’ll do fine with a boy, Ansell. I know you.”

Sighing, he looked over her shoulder and down at the impressive mound heavy with their child. “Do you need a snack?”

“Ansell.”

“Listen, perhaps we should just wait and s-”

“ _Anselme._ ”

Conceding, her husband kept up his massage. “I like Bernard.”

Frowning, she supported her lowermost curve. “I don’t know, I like naming him after Papa.”

“Two Maurices might be a bit confusing around the house though. I’d hate to have father think we’re scolding him.” Hearing another light, weary chuckle his mouth twitched. ”Bernard Maurice? Though I do like Henri after Cogsworth, just the French pronunciation.”

“Henri.” She said out loud, eyes falling to her stomach. A sweet little golden-haired boy with bottomless blue eyes and chubby cheeks. She could see him sitting on Ansell’s lap, her husband reading the little blonde a book. “Henri. It’s a strong name.”

“For a strong boy who takes after his maman.” He said softly, marveling that she was going through such a life-changing event. All to grow their family.

“It’s not just me he’ll take after, it took both of us.” She reminded. “You mother’s name-”

“Alexandria?”

“Henri Alexander?” smoothing her fingers in a circle across the patch where she felt the soon-to-be newborn shifting lower, her little girl or boy seemed to be momentarily soothed by her ministrations. Letting out a breath of air, she tried not to dwell on the pain.

“What do you prefer?” Pressing a kiss to the back of her ear, the anxiety slowly wound its way in. “Do we have a Henri or a Bernard?” Smooching again he sighed. Oh, he wanted his little brunette in bows and dresses. “Or a little Beatrice.”

Pausing, she mulled over the prospect. “Henri.”

“Henri Alexander it is. Or, Beatrice Ginette.” The distraction of the conversation felt welcome. It let him imagine his little Beatrice.

“You need... to- to quit being so scared of a b-” Belle’s breath quickened and she moaned, baring her teeth through the pain and lunging forward. Clawing, she grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly.

Ansell froze, a surge of fear coursing through him as she pulled him forward with her. He hated seeing her in pain, any pain, yet the anguish of childbirth was almost more than he could bear. As far as any of the midwives could tell, mother was healthy and the baby was more than ready to arrive. And he prayed it meant a safe delivery for his darlings. Boy or girl, as she worked through her contraction it suddenly was so frivolous. They just needed to be safe and with him.

The contraction subsided and Belle caught her breath, collapsing against Ansell.

“Easy, Darling.” working his fingers free he picked up the cloth and dipped it in the basin, squeezing the water out once more and resting it around her neck. “Is it like that every time?”

Nodding her head slowly she panted, turning her head to rest her cheek near his heart as she pulled her robe back around her stomach. “It’s easier with you here though.” She said tiredly. “Having you support me was so much better than just pacing around in here.”

“I can keep at it.” He reassured in a soft, dulcet tone, hair falling out of its tie and framing his face.

“Thank you,” Belle said appreciatively. “While you were at work they just kept me in here, fussed over me, and bossed me around; it was terrible.”

He had heard she had snapped at the midwives, however, he kept that to himself. “Well, you can certainly boss me around. And yell at me, and tear my fingers off of my hands, and kick me out of the room, and anything else you so desire. You’re bringing our little one into the world, you’re in charge.” Carefully tucking a strand of chestnut hair back behind an ear Ansell reached down and massaged a leg that had drawn up, her muscles tense. “And I don’t mind being here tonight. We always seem to do better when we endure these things together; sickness and in health, better or for worse.”

“Thank you.”

"I'm glad I ignored those awful olf biddies orders and came in to help."

"Me too."

“I love you.” He declared softly, tiredly closing his eyes and resigning to the fact he wasn’t going to sleep the entire night. “I love you, Belle and I love this little one, and I love you even more for bringing them into our family.” Pressing his lips to the back of her head Ansell relished the slightest of weary nuzzles. Terrified with a heart fit to burst, he resigned to the fact he was going to weep at least once before he met his son or daughter.

 "I love you too. She mumbled into his shirt. Her husband soft and warm and safe. A momentary haven as she recuperated. “But I want this baby out.”

“Me too.” He exhaled heavily, squeezing the hand still gripping his own. “Me too.”

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, everyone. Big emergency knocked me off schedule. But something for both stories.


	14. Beasts

Henri gurgled and babbled happily, grabbing his own toes as he laid on his parent’s bed. He was blessedly, at least as Ansell considered it, all Belle. Even as a baby his keen brown eyes watched everything intently, and it was clear he listened when anyone read to him. His hair, thick and brown, had started to curl thanks to Maurice’s blood, however, when he furrowed his little brow or grinned up at someone his mother showed through. Rolling over, he began to crawl towards the edge of his bed and towards his father with determination. Wanting to be held.

“No escaping, mon petit homme.” Ansell lifted him into his arms, kissing a round cheek and toting him downstairs. They had just finished a messy lunch, and the little one had to have his gown removed while his father was in need of a fresh waistcoat.

His boy was busy and growing every day. It was hard to believe he had started out at life so wee, so fragile and helpless. Watching him grow and develop a personality; sweet, gentle, silly, and thoughtful, was a gift. As Ansell was snuggled down the stairs, he smiled warmly. Belle, ever a woman ahead of her time, wasn’t completely chained to the house with their child. She had errands to run and her husband had gamely taken the opportunity to spend a day with his baby boy.

“We don’t get enough time together.” He sighed, tickling the fat tummy and listening to a giggle as Henri squirmed and reached for his hair. Tickling his boy more, he lifted him up and caught him, dropping the baby to his chest, grinning at the bright laughter filling his ears and the room. Lifting him up again, he blew a raspberry onto the roly-poly belly. There was so much laughter in the house with their son. Their little beacon of joy.

Henri collapsed against him in a heap of giggles, wriggling in delight as Ansell knelt in the living room, laying on the rug and propping his boy up on his stomach.

“And what shall we do, silly boy?” He asked, tickling a stubby foot. “Maman’s not hear to scold us for being rowdy, and your grandfather’s gone to work for the day.” Pulling his son closer by a leg he nibbled on the tiny little toes, laughing along with him. “I don’t know why any father wouldn’t want a day like this.” he kissed against the foot, nipping at the chubby hands patting his mouth. “You are the most perfect thing in all creation, you know. The best thing we ever did.”

Listening intently, Henri paused as if he understood his father’s more mellow words. Mouth pulling into a smile studded with incoming teeth, he leaned against a palm that cradled the side of his face.

“We were so scared we’d never have you.” Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Ansell had to forcibly blink away the heat stinging his eyes. “We were so scared we’d never be together and we’d never have children. But we’re safe and you’re here now and you make everything so much brighter, Henri. I’m just worried I’m not a good enough father.”

Sensing his father was sad, the little boy’s face dropped. He slid down and spread his arms wide across Papa’s chest, snuggling and nuzzling to make him feel better.

“I just want to try.” He sighed, rubbing the little back in a circle. “You and Maman are so perfect, I have to try to be better than your grandfather ever was.”

Babbling softly against his father's neck to soothe him, he sighed mightily.

Patting the diapered rump, Ansell sighed with him. “I don’t mean to get so serious. But I love you too much and I want to spend all of the time in the world with you, mon petit homme.”

Pawing at Papa’s beard, Henri grinned against his neck. Reaching, he patted his face, brightening the mood while Ansell resumed nibbling at his fingers. A playful growl beginning to rumble in his chest at his son. Rolling off of his Papa’s strong chest, Henri laughed as Ansell caught him.

“Oh no you don’t!” Rolling over atop his baby, careful not to put any weight on him, Ansell tickled and growled. “Trying to escape the beast!”

Squealing, his son began to rough house with him, the two playing until they both needed a nap.

 

* * *

 

Belle heard growling as she entered the house.

It was coupled with the giggles and laughter of a baby, little gurgles and babblings of sunshine. Smiling, she quietly removed her jacket and hung it on the hook, silently making her way down the hall.

Her boys were playing. Ansel flat on his back on the library’s rug, happily snarling and talking about a big beast getting the boy perched on his stomach. Tickling and lifting Henri in the air, his son squealed happily as his Papa lowered him and nibbled and kissed him all over. There were toys scattered everywhere and a small stack of picture books nearby from their day together.

Belle leaned against the doorframe, letting out a lovely, surprised laugh.

Her husband looked up, Henri seated upright with his back leaning against his knees. “Oh hello, Darling.”

“What on Earth are you up to?” She grinned, watching Henri find her and coo happily.

“Just having a bit of fun.” He said as she took a seat next to him.

“On the floor?”

“Well, he started betting squirmy and kept trying to play with the buttons on my waistcoat. So I started playing with him, which made him giggle, and I rather like his giggles so we kept playing.” He explained, watching Belle slowly shake her head.

“I rather like his giggles too.” She tickled her son, heart bursting as he squirmed and laughed. “Are you being silly with Papa?” Leaning in Belle kissed Henri’s forehead, then bent lower and caught her husband's lips. “You two are ridiculous.”

“We know how to have a good time.” He defended playfully. “A good time being tummy kisses and tickling and cuddles and stories of a big scary beast that loves baby thighs.”

“You know it's moments like these I wish we were at the castle.” She mused, playing with the golden mane as her husband was confused. “You in full regalia with your tummy kisses.”

Ansell laughed, Henri laughing with him. “Something tells me Cogsworth wouldn't approve of a bit of drool on my silk suit.”

“It would be royal drool, so he'd give it a pass.” Henri reached for Belle, cooing and wriggling in earnest. “Lunch?”

“Stuffed himself; peaches and stew. Flung some of the stew, he’s getting a good arm.”

“Good.” Picking him up she kissed a fat cheek and set him in her lap. “How are you so heavy?” She asked into the crown of fuzzy brown hair. “You were such a tiny thing-”

“And now he's the roundest little cub you've ever seen.” Reaching up Ansell tickled a chubby foot. Henry twisting and hiding against Maman’s dress. “All belly and smiles, our sturdy boy.”

“He'll have a growth spurt soon. We’re due for one.” She patted Henri’s stomach, furrowing a brow and looking to her husband for an explanation. “Cub?”

“Well, his father is the beast.”

Belle rolled her eyes.

“Did you get your errands done?” He asked, still flat on the floor.

“Yes, thank you for watching him.”

“Thank you for giving us some father-son time.” He smiled sincerely. “I do love spending time with him. Even if we're not so composed and prone to a bit of silliness.”

Belle laughed lightly. “No, I don't think anyone would ever describe you two together as composed.”

“Here, let me see my cub. The son of the great beast!” reaching over he lifted Henri above him and abruptly lowered him; tickling, growling, and nuzzling to his boy’s delight. “look at these massive paws! Killer claws!” Nipping at the little hands pulling at his beard his heart felt too big for his chest. “Ferocious little cub if there ever was one!” turning to his laughing wife he smiled wickedly. “Henri, the Beast has Maman-”

Belle's eyes widened.

“Are you going to save her or help me?!” Ansell pulled her down onto the floor, tickling her sides and making her let out a shriek of surprise. Henri letting out a belly laugh in delight. “Come on, son! Get her!”

“Ansell!”

Squealing, Henri carshed into his mother in a fit of laughter. His parents, never traditional, were so funny.

Hooking an arm around her waist Ansell drew his wife in and stole a kiss. “You're no match for two beasts.” He grinned against her mouth.

“I tamed you once, I’ll tame you again, Beast.” She kissed teasingly, the three of them in a happy heap on the floor.

“You know, sometimes I like you calling me that.” He growled, far more seductive than playful.

“Not with the cub.” She reminded, smoothing a palm temptingly across his chest. Kissing him, much more thoroughly, Belle’s eyes closed in contentment as she laid half on her husband, her son occupying the rest of him.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, wincing at a tug at a lock of his hair.

“How much I love my two silly beasts.”

 

-Fin-


	15. Growler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally in line for the Matterhorn editing this sucker.

* * *

Belle heard the front door of their house open and shut. Watching in amusement from the comfort of her desk, her two little boys sprung to life on the rug. They had previously been sitting and playing with their blocks and various toys, however, the sound had all of their attention.

“Papa!” Leaping to his feet Henri charged ahead, bright eyed and grinning.

Bernard let out a cheery growl, toddling as fast as he could on his stout baby legs.

Sighing at her youngest, Belle set her pen down near the ink pot and slowly pushed the chair out.

Walking in through the breakfront Ansell knelt and caught the little ones. “Oh you two!” Kissing and tickling Henri, he smoothed his boy's chestnut hair out of his dear face. Talking lovingly to them each, he swung Bernard up into the air and soon had his littlest slung over a shoulder like a bag of feed and his eldest by the middle under an arm. “Did you two get in trouble? Were we good today?”

“Bernard got in trouble.” Henri piped, limply dangling.

Bernard let loose a big belly laugh from his perch, wriggling and squirming in delight.

“Somehow I'm not surprised.” Ansell replied with the slightest hint of exasperation. Turning, he found her brown eyes and grinned like a lovestruck fool. “Hello.”

“Hello, Monsieur. Good day?” She asked, rising up from her desk.

“Oh you know, productive; made money, few headaches, came home to be attacked and beaten by small children.” He replied while setting Henri down. “Same old, same old. Though this is by far the best part.” throwing the toddler in the air he nuzzled and nipped at the little hands making a go for his beard and loose golden hair. “These wild children! How much do we feed them again? They keep growing, we should stop.”

“Rawr!” The baby of their pair gnashed his stubby, incoming teeth and formed wee little claws with his hands.

“Rawr?” Arching a brow Ansell set Bernard on his hip. “What about Papa? That's your first word.”

“RAWR.”

Missing Henri rolling his eyes down below, so very much like his mother, Ansell corrected. “No, Papa.”

The big, wet eyes gazed up at the father and weakened his knees. “Pa-”

“Yes-”

“RAAAWR.”

Belle watched the pair carefully while Henri came over, hugging her legs. Gently tugging the slackened green ribbon out of his hair, Belle combed his locks out with her fingers, gingerly massaging his scalp. "I know." She reassured when he let out a grumble. Her eldest had no patience for his baby brother.

As she helped Henri re-tie his hair, her husband conceded. “Oh, alright.” Father and son growled together, Ansell's far more realistic to the delight of the toddler. Swinging his littlest down, Henri came over to him. “Go on, boys. I'll be over in a bit.” Playfully swatting them, the duo went storming off happily at the promise of playtime. The look of sheer, unbridled adoration coming from Ansell while he watched them leave the library made Belle's heart fit to burst.

Getting over how lovestruck he was, her crossed arms against her chest. Belle gave him the look that he could quickly interpret as one of mild annoyance as the blue eyes moved back to her.

His face fell ever so slightly and she had to admit she enjoyed it. Just a bit.

Walking over, her hands slipped over his hips as her lips twitched. “They were so good and quiet until you came home.”

“You know you married a troublemaker.” He teased against her mouth, both of them enjoying the sudden silence. “So what happened that put that frown on your face, Darling?”

Hesitating, she didn't want to sour their moment alone with the discussion of children. It was rare they got to talk about anything else. “Bernard.”

An expression of exhaustion immediately overcame him.

“Yep.” Her words were heavy, reluctant. Henri was a quiet boy. Considerate, imaginative, easily occupied with a book or some watercolors.

Then there was Bernard. 

Ansell groaned, shoulders slouching. “What is it now?”

“Remember how you taught him to growl and I begged you not to?”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Reaching down he pulled playfully at her skirts, watching her lean back so he held her weight by the sturdy blue cloth. “But he's so verrry cute when he does it. He even makes the little claws every time.”

“He bit the dog.” She said humorlessly.

Ansell’s eyes widened. “Excusé moi?”

“Ever since you taught him to growl he's stopped trying to talk and all he does is snarl.” sliding her hands on the arms keeping her from falling backward, Belle gave them a squeeze. “According to Papa he wouldn't stop growling all day. Which made her play growl, and then they started playing and he  _bit_  her ear.”

Opening and closing his mouth like a bewildered fish, Ansell tilted his head ever so slightly to the side at the information. Finally, he managed to speak again. “Is... she alright?”

“She's fine. Acted like it was her fault and licked him to death, apparently.”

Pursing his lips, he paused for a moment to mull it over.

“I gave her some ham.” Belle admitted guiltily. “I felt really bad.”

“I’m sure that smoothed things over-”

“You have to make it stop.” It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order.

Face sinking into a frown, her husband pulled her up to her feet. Belle watched him and knew he was about to whine. ”Why do I have to?” The words came out with a bit of a whine.

Raising her brow as he encircled her waist, Belle drew her hands up to his shoulders. “You can't grumble about this one. You taught him.”

Letting out a huff Ansell conceded. “Fine.” pulling her in, he picked her momentarily and kissed her so lovingly, so thoroughly, Belle had no choice but kiss back far more hungrily than she had anticipated.

That sweet man of hers certainly knew a good distraction. Kissing his chest, she leaned against him. “Surprised you can still pick me up.”

“Oh hush, you're not big at all right now.” He pecked, staring at her mischievous mouth. “I know you, trying to garner all of sympathy in the world when you're like this.”

Gazing up, Belle batted her big brown eyes. “Is it working?”

“It always does, Darling.” he sighed quite lovingly. They could fight as the day was long, and sometimes they did, however, they were all his great weakness. There were nights where she caught him watching, or snuggling, or soothing, overwhelmed with emotion. It was always the same thought; how could his father have not wanted actual fatherhood. The joy of their family was sometimes bittersweet in that way. “Henri is so quiet. How on Earth did we end up with such a-a-”

“Loud?” Bell supplied.

“Loud, and stubborn, and apparently ferocious? Baby boy.” Holding her, he gazed down when she started chuckling. Her shoulders shaking against his chest.

“Do I really have to answer that one for you?” Belle laughed out.

“You wound me, Madame.”

Belle’s laughter died into snickering, she found him sulking after her small fit. “Even if it didn't come down to temperament, I'm not the one who growls.”

“Well, not outside of the bedroom you don't.” He purred softly in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine, a warmth blooming in the pit of her stomach while a set of fingers wandered between the space where her skirts were tucked up.

Running a palm down his torso, she kissed his collarbone and gently extracted the exploring hand. “Don't start what you can't finish.”

Smiling wolfishly and tucking the thought back for later use he said into her hairline. “How was your day? Besides coming home to our little growler.”

Eyes sinking tiredly, Belle didn't want her mind to begin to wander away from him as they stood in her little library. The idea of his hands on all the best places and other pieces of anatomy elsewhere was so very tempting. “Productive. Work went smoothly and I managed to go fix someone's gate.”

“Good.” Ansell hoped that the scuffling noises coming from upstairs weren't anything he had to handle. “Do I need to try my hand at dinner? Could have Henri help, he gets rather excited about that sort of thing.”

Shaking her head, Belle realized that more than anything she wanted a nice nap atop of Ansell. “I was paid in food for the gate. It's warming in the oven.”

“Splendid, someone has to win the bread around here.” He joked, well aware she was smiling and rolling her eyes. “Nap?”

“I'm fine.” She lied.

“Liar.” He replied sweetly. “Have I ever told you how much I lov-”

“BERNARD!” Henri shrieked from above.

Throwing his head back, her husband groaned.

“BERNAAAARD BIT MEEEEEEE!” Their oldest howled from above. “PAAAAAPAAAAAA!”

Slowly patting his chest, Belle stepped away and left Ansell to his daunting, snarling task. “Good luck with that.”

-Fin-


	16. Days in the Summer

“Alright, hup!”

Henri grinned as his father hoisted him into the wagon. Maurice took the excited, giggling boy, setting him on the back bench. The little brown eyes roamed around to see his grandfather’s painting supplies, blankets, towels, and baskets of food and other essentials. Looking over the side, Isolde smiled up, black tail wagging happily as the horses knickered.

“I think that about does it,” Ansell said, carefully passing Bernard’s basket up to Belle.

“If we pack any more we'll be taking the whole house.” She said, handing Bernard back to Maurice as Ansell climbed up and took the reins. Sitting in front with her husband and looking towards the back, Belle saw her eldest beaming. “Are you excited?”

He nodded his head briskly. “Can I pease sit up front wif you?”

Belle grinned. “I don't see why not, Sweetheart. Father, Bernard-”

“We'll be just fine back here.” He reassured, pulling the blanket draped over the mouth of the basket to check in on their sleeping babe.

“Alright, come here, Sweetheart.” Lifting her son up, she brought him to the seat.

“Are you here to help me drive the horses, son?” Ansell asked, taking his tricorn hat off and setting it on the small child's head. “Come on, mon petit home, I need assistance.”

Climbing onto his Papa's knee, Henri couldn't stop smiling as Ansell had him hold the reins while Phillipe and Viola started out.

* * *

Belle helped unhitch the horses and tie them in some shade. The lake was shimmering in the summer sun, their spot carefully tucked away from the view of the main road and prying eyes. Bernard was snoozing after his third breakfast, and Henri was helping Maurice set up his easel and paints in the shade.

“Leisurely day of reading planned?” Her husband asked, not having time for conversation during the trip up the road. Their son had been chatty, and they had set their topics aside to give him the attention he so deserved ever since his baby brother had arrived. Finished securing Phillipe who immediately began grazing, he slipped over and encircled his wife in his arms from behind, planting his lips on her sweet smelling neck. She hadn't quite lost the weight from their new baby, but every inch of her was a delight in his hands. 

“Maybe some swimming, who knows.” She replied, watching her father and son. Isolde was nearby, patrolling their getaway with her keen nose. “It already feels good to get away, even if it is just for the day.” Leaning back, she petted the arm holding her close, smile tugging slightly on her mouth as his nose brushed against her neck.

“That it does.”

“I take it you'll be jumping in the lake?”

“That I am, I'd like to teach our little minnow to paddle.” He smiled, excited at the prospect of time with his darlings.

“Papa!” Henri raced over, his face serious, as if they were late to a task. “Can we swim?” The big, bright eyes completely ignored the fact that his parents were having some time to themselves.

Belle smiled, turning and giving him a quick peck. “Go take him, I can set up our blankets in the shade.”

He took her hand. “Are you sure? Bernard-”

“Henri needs some time with you, go on.” Stealing another kiss and giving the hand a squeeze before shooing him off, she watched Ansell run up and catch Henri. The two laughing and chasing one another down to the water, their hound barking and racing down to meet them.

* * *

As he carried his son away from the water, Ansell couldn't help but feel dumbstruck with love towards Belle.

She looked incredibly serene in the shade. Leaning against a tree, reading with Bernard laying next to her on a small mound of blankets, their little one stretched out and sleeping deeply after filling his belly with milk. She was stunning in her yellow dress, poppies and daffodils on her apron, hair a glistening chestnut, lovely, keen brown eyes sweeping across the pages. Her mouth, that pink, sweet mocking mouth, moved ever so slightly as she read.

“Papa I'm hungry.” Henri whimpered from atop his shoulders, drawing him away from his love.

“Then let's have lunch.” Padding across the grass barefoot, he noticed the beautiful landscape Maurice was working on. Each brushstroke slow, methodical, carefully dipping and blending paints to match every shade of verdant green. His ears catching a mighty yawn from his eldest, Ansell held onto the small ankles. “Maurice! Lunch?”

Looking up at his soaking wet son-in-law and equally drenched grandson, Maurice pulled out his pocket watch and adjusted his glasses. “I suppose so.” Carefully setting his pallet aside he rose with some difficulty in regards to his knees. “You lads have fun?” Isolde came up to him, drenched from swimming to fetch sticks in the water, and he carefully patted her head.

“Papa's teaching me how to swim!” Henri beamed from on high.

Smiling proudly Ansell nodded his head. “Quite the swimmer, our boy.” Swinging the child down as he approached their picnic area, Ansell grinned at Belle who caught his eyes and let out a lovely laugh at their state.

Pulling out a towel from a basket she quickly went over and enveloped her son in it. “You certainly enjoyed yourselves.” Wrapping him up and drying him off, it was clear she relished his cheery little giggles. “Where's your clothes?” Picking him up, she had him in a bundle, kissing him between the eyes as he playfully tried to hide in his wrap.

Pulling up his soaked breeches as they threatened to slouch further down, Ansell picked up a towel for himself. “On a rock, I didn't want us to have to dry out all day.”

“Smart.” Hugging and kissing Henri when he snuggled in and got her dress wet, she set him down by the hamper of food and kept drying her sweet boy off. “I heard something about being hungry.”

“I am, Maman.” Her boy giggled as his head and face disappeared under the towel. 

Toweling his hair Ansell wandered towards their provisions. “I'll get lunch out if you dry off the minnow.” Isolde, aware of the word "lunch", pricked her ears and trotted over towards the possibility of having her boy sneak her scraps.

“Sounds like a plan.” Tickling Henri, she laughed at him. "Gracious, Henri, you're sopping wet! I think these trousers have to come off." Catching her husband's mouth opening for a quip, Belle raised a brow. "Not  _your_ trousers." She cut him off, feigning seriousness. "You'll cause trouble."

"You're no fun." He pouted playfully.

* * *

“Look at our rowdy boy.” Ansel yawned, bringing Bernard down from his shoulder. Having slipped his shirt back on after lunch, the midday heat was making him feel lazy.  “Out like a light.”

Belle gave a look of relief. When their baby had learned to scream he hadn't learned really stop. “I think it's the warm weather.”  

Noticing Henri sleeping in Belle's lap, he smiled. “And all the food. How's your day been?”

“Good. It's nice to just read. I feel like I haven't had much time since Bernard and I have quite a stack to go through.” Idly she ran her fingers through her son’s beautiful. wavy brown hair. He was such a lovely thing; head and chest in her lap, eyelids fluttering after all of his playtime with her husband and a good lunch. Wrapped in a fluffy towel to keep him from being as naked as he had joined their family three years before, her little one had fallen asleep too fast for her to put him back into his sun-dried clothes.

Carefully setting Bernard in his basket, Ansell stretched and took a seat next to her. “He does take some extra energy.” Catching the raised brow directed towards him Ansell sighed. “Alright, a lot of energy- _most_ of our energy.” Leaning forward, cupping her face, he smiled against her mouth. “He is, however, one of the most beautiful, most perfect things in the world. And I wouldn’t dare change him. My feisty little darling.”

“Neither would I.” She confessed, looking over at her baby. Her precious, loud bundle of stubborn and fussy joy. Smaller than Henri at his stage, yet round-cheeked and getting chubbier. Always hungry, her little Bernard, and always a touch dramatic even though he was so new.

Henri furrowed his brows in his sleep, rolling over onto his back and looking so much like Belle he sighed. “I'm so happy we got to have a little day in the sun with both our beautiful boys.”

 Kissing him tenderly, Belle smiled back. Her fingers twining through his hair. “I like it when I have all three of you to myself.”

Turning, he rearranged the plump cushions they had brought along. The lake was a favorite summer spot of theirs; they had been coming long before the children had even been a conversation. Looking out over the meadow they had kept to the edge of, purple flowers dotted the hillocks and danced in the light, twisting breeze. Maurice was still painting, working on the finer details of his landscape while Isolde was flopped on her side next to him. The enormous wolfhound seizing the opportunity to dry in the sun and nap off half of the sandwich she had managed to lift out of the basket before being caught. “I see you're finally reading the book I recommended.”

“Yes, I finally got around to it.” She said, glancing over at the two novels she had brought. “It's wonderful, I love the villain.”

“Really? I like the hero. He's rather gallant. Here-” gathering up Henri he reclined back onto the cushions. His son in the towel settled atop him, napping on his stomach with his arms draped over Ansell's sides. Letting out a content little “Mmm” to his father's warm, safe chest.

“You always like the gallant hero.” Watching his fingers gingerly rub a soothing circle across their son's back. “And happy endings.”

“You can't blame me, we've nearly had a few tragic endings ourselves.” kissing the top of Henri’s sweet chestnut head, the blue eyes bobbed. Ever since he had been nothing but a wee bundle he had shared many a nap with Henri atop his torso, and it was an automatic response to the weight of him placed so. “I look forward to our discussion and inevitable debate.”

Laughing, though not too loud as to awake their children, Belle reached down and traced his face with the backs of his fingers. The bristles of his beard scratching her pleasantly “A rousing argument, I'm sure.”

“I do love a good fight.” He smirked, looking impish. “It’s just occurred to me I haven’t gotten to throw you into the lake yet and hear all manner of Shakespearean cursing.”

Giggling, her fingers ran across his lips. “You can try after your nap. But even if you succeed, I think it’s not wise to curse anymore."

Ansell gently bit one of the fingers, giving her a saucy smile. “Whoever said I needed a nap?” Gently taking her wrist, he gave it a slight tug and was rewarded by her reclining on the cushions with him. Letting out a yawn, he sighed in contentment. His darlings all so close; Henri snoozing on his chest, Belle by his side, the baby at peace. Twisting his head to the side, he stole a kiss and smiled lazily as an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Watching him turn as much as he could as to not disrupt Henri, Belle curled against her husband’s warm body and kissed him once more. “Are you sure this isn’t a nap?” It was hard to think of a more lovely setting; Bernard sleeping without so much as a fuss, Henri napping and lovingly cuddled while Ansell held them both. Her boys all together with her.

“We’re just dozing, enjoying the heat.” He rumbled sleepily. “Though you’re welcome to nap, Darling. I know we can all be a bit wearing.”

“Hmmm.” Lazily brushing her lips against her husband’s, she watched his eyes sink. “I do love happy endings, you know.”

“I hope this isn't ending.” He whispered tiredly.

Belle nestled her face against a shoulder, enjoying the sound of Henri’s breathing. “Not at all.”

As they all fell asleep, the breeze cooling them, they were unaware of Maurice pulling out his sketchbook to capture their summer moment.

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo. Moar fluff.
> 
> Mon petit homme: My little man


	17. Teacups

The doors opened and Belle heard a dozen little cups swiveling and clattering on their saucers. Turning, she watched Mrs. Potts’ cart wheel itself into the library, the smallest members of the household fidgeting atop.

“Now, now, little ones! Don't jump too far or you'll crack a saucer! Careful now.” The teapot told them, the cups jostling and chattering.

“Belle!” They all cried out in unison.

The Beast glanced up from the book he had been reading quietly in a corner. Furrowing a heavy leonine brow, he watched all of the china slide and slip across the polished marble floors. Little glazed mouths grinning eagerly as they spun towards his captive, his mouth tugged upwards at the sight and accidentally exposed a fang.

“Goodness!” Belle laughed, stooping and catching Chip. “Are we all ready for storytime? Come on now, I made you all a place to rest this time.”

“Can you read the one about the pirates?” Someone piped, the cups all jumping into the baskets that had been set around a big chair. Each had a pillow tucked down at the bottom and a thick blanket atop to nestle the bits of porcelain while they listened to a story.

“But the princess and Aladdin!” Another wailed.

“No! I want to hear more about Sinbad!”

“I want to know what happened to the genie!”

“Children! Hush!” Mrs. Potts admonished. “You can’t hear a story if you’re jabbering on like a treeful of monkeys.”

“It's okay, I used to get excited about hearing a story too.” The young woman said.

The Beast watched carefully, his book slowly closing in his paws.

Taking a seat in a chair made for much larger, furrier individuals, Belle set Chip on the velvet arm and picked up a book. “Alright, we haven't finished the tale of Aladdin. Chip, how about I read two pages and then you read one?”

Hopping closer, he perched on her shoulder, temporarily lost under her hair before shuffling his way free. “But I'm not that good at reading out loud.” The little teacup said bashfully.

“How about a paragraph? The only way you improve is if you try.” She coaxed.

Eyes sliding down in thought, he felt more secure when she gave him a gentle pat where his head should have been. “Okay.”

“I know you can do it.” Finding her place, Belle looked out to see everyone else nestled in their baskets, safe from hard surfaces or dangerous heights. All of the gold eyes glittering up at her eagerly.

“Are you sure you don't want tea, Dearie?” Mrs. Potts asked as she rolled closer.

“Oh no, I'm fine.” She reassured. “I can wait until we're done here. There's no need to have someone distracted.” Noticing her big friend sulking in a far corner, Belle slowly arched a brow and raised her voice. “Would you like to join us?”

Lifting his mighty head, the blue eyes twinkled. “Hmn?”

Her mouth twitched. He tried hard to be reserved, stoic, reclusive. However, the more time she spent with him the more Belle had come to realize he was quite the opposite. “Would you like to join us? You're more than welcome to pull up a chair. You could even read a few pages.”

The long lion tail flipped and swished on the ground as he shook his head. “Oh no, I couldn't.”

“You have a nice reading voice.”

His face lifted at the thought of some piece of him being nice. “You think so?”

“It's very strong.” She coaxed, hoping to get him out of another layer, another shadow. He could be so unsure and reluctant sometimes. “You should come over, the more the merrier.”

Slouching uncomfortably, he shuffled his feet and snorted. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, you're always welcome to join in.”

Clearing her throat, Belle began reading the latest installment of their middle-eastern adventure. Every once in awhile she looked up, beyond her enraptured audience, to see Beast inching closer and closure. Until eventually he was behind the teacups, and a chair had walked over and offered a place to sit as he joined the group.

 

* * *

 

_*Months Later*_

 

Stopping his walk upstairs to a parlor, Ansell observed from the hallway window Belle being nearly tackled by the pack of former teacups as she swung down off of Philippe. Since the curse had been lifted the children had been in a state of constant motion. They could either be found running full bore, eating as if they hadn't in nearly a decade (which was the truth), or collapsed and sleeping deeply before repeating the first two steps. The castle had been loud with them human again, and he admired their enthusiasm towards life.

“Gracious, they're going to mow that poor girl down!” Mrs. Potts clucked as she tidied a bouquet of roses in a priceless vase from the far east.

“I don't think she'll mind if they do.” He mused, observing Belle leading the group to the verdant, spotless lawn just below the window. She toed off her shoes and picked up a ball, and soon the whole lot of them was off; passing it and chasing one another.

Admiring the wistful look on the Master's face, Mrs. Potts sidled up to him. He was incredibly serene and lost in thought while watching the children romp and shriek out in the sun. “She's a special one.”

“That she is.” He agreed, heart fit to burst. “And to think they used to be fine China just a few days ago.”

Chip let out a whoop, and then an indignant cry, as the prince's beloved stole the ball from him and went charging across the lawn. There was some terrible upset when she reached the pile of shoes that appeared to be a goal marker, and Chip called her a dirty cheat. Looking up as she caught her breath, Belle waved at him.

Opening the window, he waved back. “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle!” He shouted down, the group below watching him. “You look busy.”

“I am! You should come down and join us!” She grinned, puffing a lock of stray hair out of her face.

His face dropped uneasily. Running around with the children was never something he had ever entertained. Not in all the years he had presided over the castle as an adult did he ever interact with them other than the occasional quick head pat before they scurried out of sight. “Oh no, I think I'll pass.”

The expression that followed was mischievous. “Prince Anselme, do you not know how to play?”

His mouth sagged into a frown. “Of course I know how to _play._ ”

Tossing the ball in the air, she smirked. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“It’s fine… I guess.” She shrugged dramatically. “I mean, one can’t be good at _everything_ but I just assumed everyone knew how to run around and have some fun.”

“I can play!”

“Really? _Really?”_

As they went back and forth, Belle increasingly cheeky as the Prince was more and more agitated over the needling, Mrs. Potts had to bite her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing. Their prince, a young man who years ago had been a smooth operator and far too important to be teased, was such a hapless lummox at the hands of their farm girl.

Ansell snorted, unaware of just how much he was pouting.

“She’s just badgering to get you to come down.” Mrs. Potts told him gently.

“Aristocracy, you’re all kinda stuffy, aren’t you.” Said the voice from down below.

“And it’s working.” He mumbled, shucking off his jacket and handing it to her before jogging off.

Laughing as he hurried down the stairs, Mrs. Potts tucked the heavy brocade under her arm and peered down. Belle, pleased with herself, beamed up. “Got what you wanted I see.”

“He’s been so dour because of paperwork, he needs sunshine.” She said cheerily, wriggling her toes through the cool grass and tossing the ball to one of the girls.

“He has a job, you know.”

“He does, and Cogsworth keeps locking him away in meetings. But w-AH!”

Mrs. Potts let out a cackle as Ansell came barreling down the length of the lawn. Grabbing Belle about the waist he dove onto the grass, taking her with him.

“I’ll show you stuffy!”

 

* * *

 

“I liked when you got into a fight with Belle and she hit you with that clod of mud.” The little girl giggled as Ansell toted the child into the library, the others surrounding him.

“I liked it when you threw her in the pond.” Chip declared, his breeches stained on the knees.

“You know, so did I.” The prince grinned as the footmen held the door for them. “Thank you, Georges. Alright, everyone, towards the fireplace.”

Entering the door with a silver tray in one hand and his cane in another, Cogsworth froze in his tracks at the state of his prince. “Master Ansell!”

Turning around, five year old in his arms, Ansell watched his majordomo have a small conniption over his appearance.

“What happened to your waistcoat?!” Bustling over, he rested his cane in the crook of his elbow and pinched and pulled at the dirt-stained clothing. “This silk is from the Indies! At your shirt is ripped! IS THAT GRASS STAINING YOUR WHITE SILK STOCKINGS?! THOSE ARE ITALIAN-”

“It’s not my fault.” He said defensively. “If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at Belle.”

“She pushed him into the flower bed.” One of the boys grinned as he flopped down onto a couch cushion.

“She’s a cheater and she plays dirty.” He told the Englishman, glancing down at the tray that held a small bowl of ice chunks from the ice house and a clean cloth. “Oh, that’s for Margot. Excellent.” Carefully setting the little girl on a cushion, he took a handful of ice and tied it into the cloth, assisting her with setting it on her skinned knee as Cogsworth continued his blustering.

“You still participated in this tomfoolery.”

Standing up, he patted his friend’s shoulder. “A little tomfoolery never hurt anyone.”

“Well… Well-WELL we must clean you at once.” He huffed. “A bath, and then fresh clothes- oh heavens you barely have any clothes you care for to begin with-”

“Later, Cogsworth.”

“Who ordered lemonade and cookies?” Mrs. Potts chimed, pushing in her old silver cart. The children, sans Margot, swarmed her for goodies. “Gracious, you’ll all have to be scrubbed down tonight, now won’t you.”

“MRS. _POTTS_.”

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, turning to Cogsworth who was as red as a tomato.

“Feeding the children in the library? Eating off of the royal china?! This is not how things are done!” Stamping his cane on the floor, he frowned at the woman. The children slowly, sadly, stopped reaching for the food as they were remembered of their place.

Walking over, Ansell took a cookie and handed it to one of the boys. “I believe things need to be done a bit differently than before, don’t you think?” Tousling the child’s dark mop of hair, he looked over at his friend. “It was Belle’s idea we treat the children to a snack and some reading, and I ordered it.” Glancing down at all of the pensive little eyes, he gestured to the cart. “Go on now, children. Chip, take Margot some cookies and lemonade, please.” As the children descended on the sweets, he walked off with Cogsworth. “I’d like for things to be a bit more lax for the staff-”

“Your Grace! There are certain formalities-”

“And those are important, I agree. But I think having an afternoon snack in the library with all of the children is a bit different than a ball with half of France invited.”

“But- but- _Sir_ -”

“ _Cogsworth._ ”

Mrs. Potts looked on in amusement, the children happily stuffing themselves silly on the rug as Cogsworth twisted himself up into a knot over the impropriety of it all. Suddenly Belle slipped through the doors in a fresh dress and her housecoat, heading towards their small, hungry party. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the troublemaker.”

Blushing, she padded over and took a cookie. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“MmHmn.” Watching a sheepish grin break out across Belle’s lovely features, she noted how damp her hair still was. “Did you have a nice swim?”

“It was chillier than I would have liked.” She fidgeted with her snack and admired the dollop of glossy purple jam in the middle.

“Did you learn a lesson about goading people?”

“If you mean I learned that next time I have to push him into the fountain immediately after I goad him? Then _yes_.”

Laughing, the Englishwoman shook her head as Belle nibbled. “I'm glad you stopped by to cause trouble and brighten up the day.”

“I didn’t know the day needed brightening, I just promised the teacups I’d play with them since they actually can now.” She explained. "There's so much they can do with the curse lifted, it's exciting to be apart of it."

“Belle,” The littlest of the pack toddled over, her mouth covered in crumbs. “We’re not teacups no more.”

“Of course not, Inez.” The little arms went skyward and Belle knew what it meant. Scooping the child up, she smoothed the curls out of Inez’s sweet face. “But you’ll always be my teacups. That’s how we became friends.”

“I like being human again.” She sighed happily, holding onto Belle’s dress and eyeing the platter still heaped with cookies. "But I like we're still your teacups."

“Me too.” Handing the girl a fresh cookie, Belle smiled at Mrs. Potts.

“You go on now,” She shooed the pair away. “You promised a story to the teacups.”

Belle walked Inez over to the group, setting the girl next to Chip and Margot. There was a mess of crumbs on the rug, and Cogsworth was already tutting and poking about as if it was going to have to be set ablaze and replaced. Taking a seat in her massive chair, she watched all of the former cups settle in, watching her pick up the book. There was a glass of lemonade and a small plate of cookies waiting for her on the side table placed next to the chair, and Belle took a quick sip to clear her throat.

The sound of a chair being drug across the rug made her turn to the side.

Ansell set armchair next to her own, taking a seat beside her. Crossing a leg over a knee and sipping his lemonade, he looked at her expectantly.

Smiling, Belle opened the book. "Now where were we-"

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oy. I am weeks behind. Working on it, promise. Life and cold and flu season, unfortunately, got in the way. In the meantime here's a little bit of a thing.


	18. Little Fighter

“I was reading Goethe but lately with Henri we're going through Perrault and all of the fantasy elements have had me rereading the Illiad,” Ansell told his friends, taking a sip of the frothy ale rocking in his mug. The tavern was full of the after-work regulars, and he was having his weekly meetup with the boys. Not quite as blue collar as some of the other villagers, but men who loved books, ones who were a bit more studied and open minded.

“Your boy like this story time?” He taller friend, a solicitor, asked.

“Every night when we put him to bed, it's rather nice to have a moment with him when he’s not in a state of perpetual motion. Especially-” Ansell's words died off as he looked out the grubby window of the bar. Two horses galloped down the road and out of town. One of the horses Phillipe with Maurice spurring him on, the other the village physician.

And they were headed out of town towards his house.

“Lord, Ansell, you okay?” His other friend asked as he jumped out of his seat.

“Something's wrong at home.” He said quickly, grabbing his hat and cloak.

“Hey, slow down-”

Tossing some money on the table, he bolted towards his horse and leapt onto it’s back. Whirling Cavall around and galloping off towards the house.

 

* * *

 

Ansell stormed inside, tossing his hat and cloak off and onto a chair before he ran up the stairs in a state of panic.

“Whoa.” Maurice grabbed him before he could reach the bedroom door.

“What's he doing here?” He asked quickly, anxiously, pushing away his father in law.

“Ansell let him work,” Maurice said firmly, taking his arm and twisting it to get his attention.

“Belle and the baby-”

“Calm down, Son!” The husband's blue eyes frightened with a million scenarios Maurice new all ended terribly. “She asked for the doctor because something didn't feel quite right. There was some discomfort so I had her lay down while I fetched the doctor. That's it.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.” Nodding his head he let go and watched Ansell rake his hands through his hair. The locks fell messily out of the green ribbon.

“We-we we should never have tried again.” He sputtered anxiously. “She's had Henri and they were both fine-”

“Ansell-”

“Mon Dieu, I knew we wanted more but-” He began to pace.

“Ansell-”

“The blacksmith's wife just died in childbirth. Maurice, I can't raise this boy-”

Maurice got in front of the frightened young father, stopping him with a palm to his chest. “Son, I know you're a naturally tightly wound fellow but _listen_.” Stepping in he whispered carefully. “Your excitement doesn't help your child.”

His father-in-law nodded off to the side and he saw them. The little eyes peering from the nursery door, Henri gripping the frame. Having seen his Papa so worried, his chubby toddler face was fearful.

“Oh, Henri.” Walking over he knelt and his son hurried across the rug, grabbing onto him. Ansell lifted the boy both up kissed him on the cheek. "It's okay, Mon Petite Homme. It's okay."

“Maman otay?” Henri squeaked, arms flung around his father's neck.

“She's fine, the doctor's just making sure of it.” Henri nuzzled under his neck and he closed his eyes. Oh, he loved them so much it hurt, he needed them safe.

“She’s hurted.” He whimpered worriedly.

“That's why he's here, just a checkup.” Walking down the stairs with Henri tucked safely in his arms Ansell let out a deep breath. He had to be strong for his boy; he needed his big, safe Papa for reassurance. “Have you had dinner yet? Or do we need to eat something?”

 

* * *

 

The sound of the front door opening and feet racing up the stairs woke him.

Stiffly rising from Henri’s too small bed, he made sure his child was tucked in with his stuffed lion before slipping out the door and into a flurry of talk.

“Her water broke.”

“Go fetch a basin of water now! Get the towels, fresh blankets!”

“Heavens, it’s so early.”

“What’s-” The midwives all turned around to his voice and the color drained from his face. “What happened?”

“She’s laboring.” The leader of the pack stepped forward as the others went into the bedroom.

His heart was suddenly being crushed in a vice. “No-no-no, it’s too early she’s not due until the beginning of summer-” Rushing the door, it was suddenly blocked by a portly midwife as Maurice came out of the bedroom, looking bereft. “Let me through!”

“Sir!” She said.

“Maurice, you knew about this?!” He bleated, feeling betrayed.

“Ansell, _she_ didn’t want me to say anything.” He said tiredly, gruffly.

“I need to see her!” Shoving the woman aside, he stormed towards the room. Feeling ripped apart, he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and jerked back. “So help me, Maurice-”

“CONTROL YOURSELF.”

Panting, wild-eyed, his back hit the banister. “Belle!”

Grabbing the young man by the shoulders the elder locked eyes with the frantic blue ones. “Ansell, pull yourself together!”

Looking past his father-in-law, brimming with dread, he gaped at the place the midwives were pouring into. “Maurice, it’s so early-”

Suddenly Maurice became frightfully sad. “They’re going to do what they can.”

“I need to be with her! They can’t keep me out, I need to see her-”

“The doctor only wants the midwives, Ansell.”

“It’s that serious?” The words came out in a shudder. When Maurice’s face fell, his dropped stomach to the floor. “Maurice-” he gulped, tears flooding his eyes. “I-I can’t.”

Maurice suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye. A long, cold silence stretched out between them as a deep groan of pain was dulled by the door. 

"PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT STOP!" The voice desperately yelled from beyond the door.

Ansell couldn’t speak anymore.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t sleep.

The first day Ansell couldn’t sleep. Refusing to go to work he went through the motions of tending to the house and parenting their son. The midwives bustled in and out, and Maurice made sure that those seeing to his daughter had meals and drinks during their short breaks. He watched them, in and out, in and out. Eventually, he nodded off but not for too long before resuming his exhausted station.

Then suddenly Belle’s crying out in pain stopped. Yet they were still in the room. He heard something about exhaustion at one point, and he removed himself to go get sick out by the barn.

On the second day, or the third, he wasn’t truly sure at that point, he sat in the library with Henri. Their nearly three-year-old toddler had been fussy all day. Demanding his mother, he had thrown a fit that had lasted until he reluctantly dozed off for a nap in his father’s arms.

Rocking slowly in one of Belle’s favorite chairs in her library, Ansell sighed wearily. They both needed to be alright. He knew the likelihood of it happening was slim with the due date being so far away, so in the event of that not being feasible he desperately hoped to get Belle back. Dear god, just give her back. His heart would break if they lost the child, however, there could be more children. Belle was irreplaceable.

Maurice came in and wordlessly set a piping hot mug of tea on the side table before collapsing on the couch. Shaking his head, the old man gazed listlessly into space.

Turning a fussy Henri, boy sucking his thumb in his father’s safe arm, he reached for the cup. “Anything?”

“I overheard something about the baby having arrived.”

Stomach twisting in knots, he felt queasy. There had been no wailing, no outraged first lungful of air. Henri had screeched and squirmed until he had been pressed to her breast for his first milk. Healthy babies cried. Alive babies cried. Setting the cup down, he had no appetite or thirst as tears began to run down his face. “Bernard.” He choked out.

Overwhelmed with grief Maurice began to cry too. Leaning forward, his head dropped into his hands. “Son, I’m not a religious man but… I think we should pray.”

“Ansell?”

Both their heads whipped over to the midwife in the doorway wiping her hands on her apron. Ansell felt nauseous with anticipation even though he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.

“They both made it.”

A strangled breath left his chest, eyes widening while his back fell into the chair and he gasped.

“Another son. The little boy is on the smaller side, but not as early as we thought. Had trouble breathing and is weaker than he should be, but he’s a fighter. Doctor thinks he has a chance if he can eat and make it through the night.”

“Thank god.” Maurice blurted, bolting out of his seat.

“And-and Belle?” Ansell managed, suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of Bernard pulling through.

“She’s exhausted herself, there were complications and she needs rest.” She said firmly.

“I won’t let her out of bed for as long as you’d like her there. Just as long as she’s alive, we’ll follow any regimen.” He said quickly, clutching Henri.

The midwife nodded her head. “Oh, we have a list I assure you.” Softening her voice towards the tired, emotional, crying husband she nodded. “She wants you.”

Carefully getting up and passing Henri to Maurice, he padded up the stairs. Quickly opening the door, the blue eyes immediately found her in bed. Pale, dark rings under her eyes. Damp hair. The small hearth at the other side of the room was roaring, and the whole room was warm to keep them so. She had a bundle in her arms, and as soon as she saw him, a tired smile on her lips.

“You look terrible.” She said.

It was enough to get him to chuckle, though tears still streaked down his cheeks. “Is that all you have to say? You scared me to death!” Ansell gasped. “I’m surprised I haven’t gone gray.”

“I didn’t plan on it.” Shifting her weight, it was clearly difficult to move. “Uhf.”

“Don't you dare lift a finger.” Rushing to her. He sat at the edge of the bed and gingerly cupped her face. Leaning in he kissed Belle tenderly, letting out a sob afterward. "God, I love you. I love you so much."

“Do you want to meet your son?” She sniffled.

Looking down at the blanket he discovered a little, round face. Tiny fingers, smaller than his big brother’s ever were, gripping the quilt. The newborn let out a grunt in between shallow breaths. Belle held him as if she would never let him go.

“What a little miracle.” He exhaled, gingerly using a finger to pet the curled fist.

“Our Bernard.”

“Our Bernard. What a fighter, definitely takes after his mother.”

“I'm not the only one who's a fighter in his family. But, he's probably the toughest one out of all of us.” Gently she tugged the blanket up to keep her son warm. A worried knit formed in her brow. “He's so tired, he hardly ate. They keep talking about him lasting the night because he's had so much trouble.”

“Then we'll do everything in our power to get him through. If he’s yours I know this little darling can make it.” He said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Looking across the room as the midwives took away hampers of soiled, bloody towels and sheets, Belle addressed the man washing his hands in a basin. “Doctor, what do we need to do to give our son a chance?”

Glancing over, the doctor's long, wrinkled face appeared unconvinced the baby had much of a chance. “Warmth, put the cradle by the fire. He can't take a chill. And wake him up every two hours and make him nurse.”

Ansell turned back to Belle. “I'll sleep next to him by the fire if I have to.”

“We'll do everything.” She told the physician. “Whatever needs to be done. I'll stay up all night if it gets him through.”

“Your husband can do that, you can't afford to stay awake that long.” The midwife tutted. “You're going to soak in a bath and then you're to stay in bed until I say so. I'll have to spend the night for the next few days, you're vulnerable to childbed fever. We’ll mix a tincture for you to take to stave off infection. You need to stay well for the child.”

Ansell turned to Belle.

“I won't fight it.” She told him tiredly, an ache in her voice giving away her pain.

“Good, you're too precious to lose, both of you.” Tucking a lock of hair out of her face, Ansell brushed his lips against her own. “She'll tend you, and I'll make sure Bernard keeps warm and wakes up every two hours. We'll get through this. What complications did you have?”

“You don’t want to know. But it was horrible, and I honestly thought Bernard wasn’t going to make it.”

“Didn’t think either would make it at one point.” One of the midwives said quietly.

He wanted to cry again at the thought of them being lost.

Belle’s voice was soothing, gentle. “We’re alright though. We both need some care but like you said, we’re going to get through this. I wouldn’t let him worsen; I’ll do anything, _we’ll_ do anything to make sure of it. You keep him warm, and I’ll work on keeping him fed. He’s already leagues better than when he first arrived.”

Sighing, overwhelmed, Ansell wanted to curl up next to Belle and sleep for a solid month. Being so fearful was exhausting. “I love you two so much.”

“And we love you. Where's Henri?” Bernard let out a fuss and she tilted him into her for more warmth. “I haven't seen him for days. I can't help but feel like I need him nearby.”

“A little broody I see.”

“More than a little, I want both of my boys with me.”

Smiling at the thought, Belle carefully handed over Bernard and he marveled at the small, bald baby. “We'll look at you, little one.” He grinned through a sniffling, runny nose. “Welcome home, you sure know how to make an entrance.” Listening to Belle's soft, lovely laugh Ansell ghosted his fingers over a tiny cheek. “You're a fighter, I know it.”

“We'll work on getting you big and strong, Sweetheart.” She added, a palm resting on the bottom of the bundle. “Papa and I love you too much to let you go.”

“One of my Darlings now, so you can't leave.” Reaching under, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Gazing up at Belle adoringly, he said. “Big brother’s asleep with your father. It might be best to bring him in after you’ve rested and Bernard has made it through.”

The midwives entered, buckets of hot water being hauled and poured into the large tub they had dragged over from the washroom. One brought a bowl of salts and herbs and poured the mixture in as more water was added and the bath began to transform into a murky, aromatic tea. “Alright, Mister, shoo. Your wife needs a bath. Her poor muscles and body need tending to.”

Ansell obliged. Stealing another kiss and “I love you” from his wife, he toted Bernard over to the fire and sweated in a chair while his son kept warm.

 

* * *

 

Somehow he managed to wake every two hours.

Groaning as he was getting too old to sleep on the floor, Ansell rose from his set up of blankets and pillows. Gathering up his littlest, he gazed at the precious, sleeping face. There was more color in Bernard's cheeks and his breathing was more steady.

“Alright, son. Time to wake up, we've got to keep you alive.” Squeezing a little palm, Bernard scrunched up his face and whined. “Darling-”

Belle yawned. “Already up.” Sluggishly reclining against the pillows, she watched her husband reluctantly wake the baby who was finally able to draw a breath and let out a cry.

“Well look at you, making a good and proper fuss.” He said, passing over the squirming bundle and climbing onto his side of the bed.

She laughed tiredly as Bernard hunkered in. “Not as nearly as sluggish as the first three times. But looks like we still have to try hard.”

Watching the newborn, her husband wrapped an arm around her and relished Belle’s weight against him. “Good. He needs to grow. You really had to coax him earlier.”

“Well, now he’s feeling hungry aren’t you, baby.” Brushing a finger against a cheek, she closed her eyes. “I think he’ll make it.”

“And you’re doing well too.” Pressing his lips to her hair, Ansell turned to look at the stars. The night had felt impossibly long, no doubt due to Bernard’s chances. His newborn’s earnest little grunts and squeaks were music to his ears. Full of life, his little fighter. “Soon you’ll be back on your feet and we’ll have ourselves another fat baby boy.”

“It’s going to be later rather than sooner.” She yawned.

Speaking into her hairline, his eyes bobbed. Lord, he was exhausted. “I don’t mind doting on you for a spell. As long as my darlings are healthy. Just _please_ don’t ever do this ever again. My heart can’t take it.”

Hesitating, the brown eyes gazed down at her small yet resilient newborn. His little eyelids half open, squinting in determination as he fed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Opening his eyes slowly, they were met with sad, tired chocolate ones flickering in the firelight.

“Ansell, there were _a lot_ of complications.” She mustered tearfully. “They don’t think I’ll be able to have any more. There is no again.”

There was silence. The crickets chirped outside and the logs popped in the hearth as he swallowed thickly and she ached over telling him.

"I cant." Belle agonized. "We can't like we wanted to. I'm sorry."

Reaching out, he cupped her jaw, running the pad of his thumb against her soft cheek. "Don't you apologize."

"I feel like I have to." Tears streamed down her eyes and he wiped them away. "It's not going to be possible to have what we've been talking about."

“Then we'll have two and that’s fine.” He whispered. “We have two beautiful children. And we’ll make sure they’re healthy and happy and so very loved. My three darlings are all I need.” Kissing her soothingly, he heard Bernard sigh heavily and chuckled as Belle switched him to the other side. “Getting better I see.”

“Come on, Son. A little bit more, there we go, Sweetheart.” Holding Bernard’s head up and coaxing him along by massaging a cheek, she felt less concerned with him finally having an appetite. “You know, I’m more than happy with my boys.”

“Good. We all love you to pieces, Belle.” Kissing her, he smiled against her nose. “I don’t need a house full of children. Besides, where would we put them all?”

Shaking her head she patted Bernard’s back. "There's always the big house."

"We'd need a dozen to fill the blasted thing. And I don't have the stamina for that." He smiled at that brow raising at him. "What? That's a lot of pressure for me to preform. And I rather like our modest little house, suits us just fine.

"A modest little house for a modest little family." Bernard struggled and she shifted him to help him along. “Why don’t you read us some Shakespeare to pass the time?”

 

* * *

 

Slowly rousing to the sounds of their very proud rooster, Ansell felt the smooth pages of a book curling under his fingers. Eventually, the blue eyes found the dawn's pink sky glowing through their window. Wakening quickly, realizing he had fallen asleep before putting Bernard back by the fire, Ansell found Belle. She was patting Bernard’s back, hushing the newborn as he finally burped before nuzzling in contentedly under the crook of her neck.

Noticing her husband she smiled. “Good _morning_.”

Ansell grinned so widely it stung. They were a vision. “A very good morning."

"We made it through." Rubbing her son's back, she felt the little lips murmur drowsily against her skin.

He couldn't stop smiling. Bernard clearly needed time, they both did. But it was _morning._ "First breakfast of the day?”

"Indeed."

"I missed it."

"It's alright. I put him back and managed to get up and wake him.” She explained.

“Belle, that’s my-”

“You were exhausted. And only one of us needs to be up to feed him. Here.”

"If the midwife finds out she'll be outraged. At me no less." Taking the bundle in his arms, he watched his son left out a deep belly sigh and smack his lips. It caused a chuckle. “Well look at you, Bernard. Made it through the night and managed to finally stuff yourself so silly you’re ready for more sleep.”

Relishing the little yawn and mumbles, she finally felt like she could fully relax and enjoy her family. “He looks so much better.”

“That he does. Still, need coaxing?”

“A little, not as bad as before.”

Tenderly he drew the bundle up and carefully kissed the delicate forehead. “That’s my boy. My little fighter making it through the night.”

Hearing a small, familiar voice through the door coupled with feet toddling across the rug, Belle perked up.

He noticed. “Do I need to fetch big brother?”

Smiling and wanting to kiss him, Belle nodded her head. “The four of us sounds awful nice.”

“I can bring father too and make it five.”

“Even better.”

 

-Fin-


	19. Darling and Dearest

“What did you call me?”

Belle watched as the prince, the preciously new, skittish prince, lost all of the color in his face. He froze like a deer that had spotted the archer. It was a brief tell, lost when he quickly straightened his shoulders and relaxed his features. Still, he wouldn't look at her as he exhaled.

She cracked a smile. This Prince Anselme was amusing to no end. Chapeau excelled at dressing him, presenting him as ever the stylish, put together young noble. And quite frankly if he sat on his throne and stared at one they would think him regal, imposing, cool.

But that dear man and his mouth.

“Well, I mean- I- Um- Hrmn… I mean I called you _Belle_.” Ansell bumbled, gaze admiring the trees nervously from atop his brilliant black steed. The day was lovely; the summer sun hot, but as they rode the horses through the woods a cool breeze cut through the layers of cloth and offered respite. A handful of days had passed since the curse had been broken and Ansell had found joy traveling beyond the castle’s walls with Belle. The world outside of his cursed lands was endless and wide, and he ventured further with her every day.

It was so very hard not to laugh at him. “You called me “Darling”.”

“Perhaps, but it was just a slip.” He wanted to die.

“This is the fourth time you’ve called me it.”

Mouth opening, he struggled to reach for an excuse. Darling? _Darling?_ That was the stupidest name in the world. And how could he afford to call her that? It was far too soon. Here he was trying to be the gentleman, trying to create space and treat her properly, trying to court her! And he was already absently giving her little pet names.

Raising a brow at him, Belle reigned in Phillipe and swung down off of the horse. Ansell was effortlessly lost in his own mind and when he wound himself up it was easy to watch him fight within it. It was cute sometimes. Sometimes. “You know,” She carefully broke his concentration, the blue eyes staring at her expectantly. “I like Darling.”

Ansell relaxed, his mouth going from a pensive line to a hopeful smile. Jumping off of Cavall, he led the horse along the path with her. “Really?”

“I have no idea why you're so scared of calling me it, but it's very sweet.” She reassured. “It feels right.”

Turning, he gave a little smile. “I rather like calling you Darling.”

Stopping and reaching over, Belle pulled him to her. Getting up on her tiptoes, she captured the rosy lips in a kiss. Running a hand up the prince's hips and to the firm torso, she brushed her nose against his own when they parted. Smiling against his mouth she breathed out. “I love you.”

“Even when I'm so flighty?” He asked softly.

Running the pad of her thumb across his stubble, his lips were so delectable. Yet his face was so unsure it was comical. Just a few days before her Ansell had been a lion of a creature, roaring and snarling and fighting Gaston on the battlements mere hours after being so tender with her on the dance floor. So strong yet bashful her soulful Beast. And she could see him behind the dashing prince's eyes. Particularly when he was so hesitant. “Especially so.” She giggled.

“What?”

“You're so silly and dear.” Stealing one more kiss, she took his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. “Come on, silly Dearest. You have to show me this apple grove. I want to fill up these baskets strapped to the horses.”

A lopsided smile broke across the prince’s handsome face. The blue eyes sparkled adoringly. “Of course, Darling.”

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still here! New NAHEA chapter soon! Life just got in the way, unfortunately.


	20. Fluffy

“You’re WRONG!” The Beast roared, huffing and snarling down at the girl who hardly flinched at his outburst. They were in the library, bright sun shining through the windows, books stacked on a table and begging to be read as the pair squared off. The castle, which had recently begun to come alive with the soft noises of staff cleaning dusty rooms and sweeping out a decade's worth of cobwebs, had silenced itself.

“No, YOU’RE having a tantrum!” Belle shouted back.

“I AM NOT!”

“YES. YOU. ARE.”

Tail lashing, fur bristling, he hunched so low he was nearly on all fours. “I. Do. NOT. Have. Tantrums.”

Folding her arms against her chest, the young woman took a step in and found herself nose to nose with the creature. “Like. A. Petulant. Child.”

Not knowing how to deal with someone who wasn’t afraid of him, the Beast stepped back, baring his teeth at her.

“You smell,” Belle said flatly.

“I WILL NOT TAKE A BATH!”

Mrs. Potts peered out from behind the doorway, Lumiere on her cart with her. They exchanged nervous looks before turning back to the showdown. “I think someone standing up to him is doing a world of-”

“WELL, THEN I REFUSE TO BE IN THE SAME ROOM AS YOU!” She shouted, forcefully pointing a finger towards the door.

The words died off of the teapot’s painted mouth. “Oh dear.”

Startled by the announcement, it took a moment for the Beast to regain his confidence before snarling out. “THEN- WELL THEN YOU CAN STAY IN YOUR ROOM!”

“I WILL NOT!”

“YES YOU WILL!”

“YOU GAVE ME THIS LIBRARY.”

Jaws clamping shut, his brow furrowed.

“I’m not leaving _my_ library.” Slipping into one of the enormous, velvet armchairs, the brown eyes burned back in defiance.

Raising a clawed finger, he was at a loss for words. Suddenly, his chest felt tight, anxiety creeping in as he didn't know how to fight someone that couldn't be scared off. “Well, maybe I’ll carry you out.”

“Then you better pick up this entire chair.” Taking a book off of a table she began to ignore the creature and his tantrum.

Knuckles brushing against the floor, he slipped on to all fours. A deep, irritated growl rumbled his words. “I already took a bath.”

“A week ago.”

Great huffs of air came out of the wide, slightly open mouth as every other word was punctuated with a flash of fang. “As the master of this CASTLE, I’ll bathe when I wish!” Prowling back and forth in agitation, every hair on the scruff of the thick, maned neck stood at attention.

Belle tilted her chin up, her next words a stern order. “As the owner of this library, you can’t come back until you’ve bathed.”

“WHAAAAAAT?!” He roared, windows shaking, a heavy table taking a few steps backward as it felt too close to its master. “YOU CAN’T ORDER M-”

Jumping up, startling him, Belle charged forward and herded the enormous brute towards the doors that opened knowingly. “And put some clothes on!”

Surprised by how forceful and bossy something so small could be he quickly retreated backward. “I WILL N-”

The doors promptly slammed shut in front of the flared nostrils of his wet brown nose before locking with a heavy click.

Fuming, whirling around to look at his assortment of servants, the absolute rage pouring out made the whole lot of them quiver. “Can you- CAN YOU BELIEVE HER?!” He snapped, gesturing with sharp claws at the door. “THE NERVE! Kicking me out of my own library-”

“It’s not yours if you gave it to me.” The unyielding voice declared from the other side of the impenetrable oak doors.

The blatant recalcitrance in her response made his hackles shoot up. Whirling back around with clenched fists the Beast pounded on the door. “BELLE, YOU OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT!”

“No.”

A lion’s roar shook the hall and could be heard a mile outside of the castle grounds. “I’M THE BEAST.”

“So?”

Roaring once more, a heavy paw swiped at the door. Three thick, jagged claw marks were left as a reminder of his temper. Dropping on to all fours, he huffed and snapped at the door before turning back to the staff.

Cogsworth shuffled over, metal feet clattering on the floor. “Master," He began soothingly, delicately. "when one is in the presence of a lady, one should keep up with his appearance-”

A low, aggravated growl rumbled from the heavy chest.

The mantle clock hurried back a few steps. “Or not! It’s your choice.”

“Master,” Lumiere’s golden glow found the long feline face. “You of all people remember what it was like wooing a girl. Maintaining your hygiene?”

“Why should I even try to woo her?” He snorted. “She doesn’t respect me, look at what she just did!”

“She’d respect you if you quit huffing and puffing like you’re about to blow her house down.” Mrs. Potts scolded. “You have an opportunity to turn things around, here, Master.” She said firmly, steam coming from her spout. “You best try. Unless you want to sulk here all alone for the rest of your days.”

The candelabra titled his head. “What happened to your nice trousers and jacket? You looked so- so- so…” Struggling, his gold eyes roamed the hall as he reached for the right word.  “handsome?”

“Liar.” The Beast mumbled, eying the door where the damned girl was holed up. Slowly he lumbered away from her barricade, padding over to the assortment of houseware.

“Well, you looked better than you do now," Lumiere explained, being as gentle as possible with the testy, furry nobility. "And we can help you with it; give me some time and we’ll make you look dashing. I know it.”

With an exhale coming out in a heated burst of air through his nose, he turned and looked down at the floor. Fiddling with his maroon cowl, the only semblance of clothing he cared to wear save for a pair of dark, ratty breeches he muttered self-consciously. “It doesn't matter what I look like. You could put me in all the silk in China and I'd still be ugly.”

“Master,” Mrs. Potts began gingerly. “just _try_. You had a grand time just a week ago when you gave her the library.”

The heavy brow furrowed in thought.

“She teased you, no?” Lumiere reminded him.

“She… did.” He said under his breath, shuffling his hind paws reluctantly.

“She smiled!” Cogsworth hopped closer. “She was quite happy to be with you, you know. All of those long walks through the gardens, dinners and tea times and fussing about the library as she’s want to do.”

“I suppose so.”

“See? She doesn't mind your looks. What she does mind is your _stench_ ,” Mrs. Potts would have none of it. “And for ten years you've certainly looked like you smell-”

The teapot hurried over to him, harassing him towards the west wing as if she were more than a mere piece of porcelain. “I clean myself!” He whined, stumbling backward as Lumiere jumped on Frou Frou and raced towards the royal chambers to prepare a hot bath.

“Licking your fur doesn't count!”

“It's called grooming!”

“It's called being a slob!”

“Mrs. Potts!”

“Oh, quit your whinging!”

As the group ushered the Beast down the hall, Belle cautiously opened the door and peeked out.

* * *

 

“I don’t see how this hel-” The Beast’s protests were drowned by the bucket of hot water being poured over his head, ridding him of the thick layer of suds that had been lathered into his fur. Chapeau had manhandled him during the bath, scrubbing every nook and cranny, including the more uncomfortable ones.

“Gracious, the water’s _brown_.” The teapot clucked in disapproval from the safety of a table. “Whatever happened to your fastidious hygiene, you used to bathe twice a day in rose water!”

“Oh, I don’t know, a _curse?_ ” Climbing out of the tub, water splashing everywhere, he landed on all fours and shook himself off like a dog. Spitting out bath water, the Beast drew an arm up and began licking it dry with his long, coarse tongue.

The reproachful looks being served by his audience made him halt mid-lick. Even Chapeau appeared stern and his valet didn’t have a face.

“What.” He blurted. “I’m damp-” Suddenly the coat rack caught him in a towel and before he could roar in protest, vigorously dried the Beast off. Stumbling out of the thick pile of cotton, he bared every tooth and shook off again, shaking his back legs one at a time and stretching his spine out like a lion. “Well there, are you all pleased?”

Mrs. Potts wheeled over with a large, wide, bristle brush.

Glaring at it in disgust, the Beast backed away, lashing his tail and hitting the tub with it to produce a dull thunk. “Oh no, absolutely not.”

Lumiere winced, hopping into the lake of water left on the floor. “But sir-”

“I’m not a show dog and I won’t be GROOMED LIKE ONE.”

“Sir, I don’t think you realize that your fur-”

“Give. Me. My. Clothes. _Now._ ”

Sighing in defeat, Lumiere gestured the royal wardrobe over. “As you wish, Master.”

* * *

 

Belle looked over her shoulder as the door slowly, cautiously opened. “Who is it?”

“It’s… me.” The familiar baritone replied.

Arching a brow, she slowly closed her book as a suit of armor threw a log onto the fire. “And?”

“I’m clean and dressed, I assure you.” Opening the door, the big frame lumbered in, taking a deep breath and puffing his chest out in a dignified manner. Dressed in a clean white shirt, cream waistcoat, and navy breeches with a matching long coat he watched the keen brown eyes study him intently. A hand went to hold her chin as her mouth twitched in thought, which made him feel uncomfortable with all of the sudden attention. Opening his arms wide and rolling his eyes away from her the Beast scoffed. “So? Do I pass muster? May I enter _your_ library?”

Clasping a hand over her mouth, Belle stifled back a chuckle.

The mighty shoulders slumped. “ _What.”_ Belle started laughing and the fur on the back of the Beast’s neck bristled upwards while a corner of his lip curled in annoyance. “What’s so funny?”

She paid snarling lip no heed; it was impossible not to giggle. “Oh, nothing.”

The servants, watching from the safety of the cracked open door, slowly backed away as Cogsworth began to mumble with worry.

“Well, what is it then?!”

“It’s just…” She began to laugh harder. “I mean-”

“Spit it out!”

“You’re just so _fluffy_.”

Blue eyes widening, he stood stunned in his spot before barking in embarrassment. “I AM NOT FLUFFY!”

Doubling over, she held her sides and nodded vigorously as Mrs. Potts bravely rolled in and to her side. “Yes, you are! Your face looks a little like a dandelion.”

“You take that back!” Baring his teeth, he felt powerless against his captive, who he had learned he couldn’t bully into place. She was impossible, the blasted girl.

“I will not!” Taking the mirror off of the serving cart, she held it up so he could see that his mane and the fur on his face had not lain back down since being dried. It all stuck out every which way like he had been the unfortunate recipient of a bolt of lightning.

The large face fell and he refused to look her in the eye.

“You know you are.” She giggled, setting the mirror down.

“So?!” He sulked.

Rolling her eyes at the Beast, the childish, whiny mountain of fuzz, she took the brush that had been resting next to the mirror. “Come here, you just need it brushed out.”

Gazing down at the floor intently, he pursed his lips upwards and hunched his shoulders.

Belle stared at her captor pointedly.

Sighing in defeat, he padded over. Realizing he was far too tall for her to get at his face, the well-dressed creature sat like a dog on all fours.

“It won’t take but a minute.” She reassured, smirking in amusement at his lion’s tail. It swished quickly back and forth across the marble floors in vexation; like a cat deciding if it wanted to bite its owner. “Oh, quit your pouting; brush yourself once in awhile.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me.” Lumiere's whisper found its way to the master’s sharp animal ears.

“I’m not a dog.”

Frowning, Belle peeled a clump of hair from the brush and set it on the cart. “I hate to break it to you but you shed like one.”

Growling at the declaration, the noise died when the bristles worked their way up his cheeks and snout. Relaxing to the massage, he shut his eyes. “I’m still not a dog. Bit of a _Dandy Lion_ , actually, what with this suit and all.”

"I suppose that's apt." Belle couldn’t help but feel a small swell of accomplishment at having calmed the dandy lion down. Working the brush back, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a long, rose-colored ribbon. “Hold still, let me get this out of your face.” Gathering up the top and sides of his mane, she secured it back in a neat bow, and in an instant the wild Beast she had been sparring with appeared far more refined. With his mane clubbed back like a gentleman and his appearance softened Belle moved once more over to his face, working up the thick brow before going back over his cheeks and brushing out the tuft of his chin. Suddenly, there was a deep, soft vibration in his chest and throat. The content purring was enough to make her smile, particularly when the big, soulful blue eyes opened and found her own. They were such beautiful eyes and he looked quite kind, if not handsome, when he was at ease. “There you are.” Setting the brush down, Belle reached over and ran her fingers up his jaw, nails scratching the skin along the way. Cupping large face tenderly the pad of her thumb stroked his cheekbone. “Not so bad now, is it?”

Her words were so soft, so affectionate, the Beast leaned into her hand. Belle’s touch was divine; her wrist smelled of oils that had been mixed with the essence of flowers. A slight, warm smile played on his lips and the Beast gazed at her dreamily.

Both realized what was happening and froze; Belle visibly blushing, the Beast’s fur hiding his own flushed face.

Pulling his head away from her hand, he glanced away nervously.

“Thank you.” He uttered, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Twisting her hands together, Belle studied her boots. “You’re welcome.”

“And, I’d like to apologize.” Fidgeting, his long claws clicked on the floor. “I um… I should have never lost my temper over such a simple request. I promise to do better, as well as practice better hygiene. Please forgive my rudeness, it’s been some time since I’ve been anything other than an animal.”

“I accept your apology.” The blue eyes looked up at her, grateful and warm. They made her smile. “You know, I rather like it when we get along.”

“Me too.”

Hesitating for a moment, Belle stooped down and took a paw. “Come on.” Helping him up, she could see him marvel at her touch. Allowing her fingers to slip into his own, she noticed how big the paw was, how it swallowed up her hand. “We… ah... have a book to get through.” He followed her obediently to the rug by the fireplace, hesitating when she took a seat on the floor. Gazing up, he looked so unsure and bashful. It was cute, the big Beast nothing more but a sweet lummox when it came to their time together. When they weren’t fighting at least. Patting the spot next to her, she reached over to the side table and took the book. Their book. Pirates and damsels; sword fights and true love. Something for both of them.

He froze as she backed up, situating herself against his broad chest. Leaning on him for support, his heart skipped a beat at the nearness.

Straightening her skirts out, Belle dipped her head to hide her blushing. “It’s my turn to read a chapter.”

“Well then, we should get started.” The words came out shakily while he felt a delicate hand on his paw, which froze him in shock. It was so divine and so surprising, he felt he had to be dreaming. Belle; snuggled up close as they sat near the fire. Her hand gently petting the top of his paw as she found her place in the book.

Hesitating, she rolled her lips into her mouth. “Is this alright?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting shed on by the dandiest of lions?” He joked awkwardly. “It’s quite nice, actually.”

“I thought so too.” Smirking, she said, “But you’re sure not uncomfortable like that, are you, Fluffy?”

As the Beast’s face fell his tail flicked in annoyance. “Are you going to keep calling me that?”

“At least until dinner.”

* * *

 

_*Years Later*_

 

Belle looked up from her book as Ansell came padding in through the door. Rocking on his heels he kissed the side of Henri’s head; the boy’s drool-covered chin on his shoulder, the baby softly snoring. Ever so carefully he lay the child in the bassinet next to the hearth; tucking the warm quilt up to the small chest and gently pushing the bed to make it rock. Finding her after he was finished, he smiled and climbed into bed.

“That took awhile.” She yawned, saving her place in the chapter.

“He was more interested in babbling and sticking the book in his mouth than he was falling asleep.” Scooting over he kissed her gently, slowly. Smoothing his hand over her hip, Ansell grinned against her mouth afterward. “Mmn, reading time over?”

“I have some ideas.” She kissed.

“Oh really.” He said huskily, the words warm on her neck. "Do tell."

Pulling on the hem of his breeches she slid over. “It’s finally snowing outside.”

Helping her into his lap, his breath hitched as his shirt was pulled off and tossed onto the floor. “Quite a pretty view at the window, but the one I have is _so much better._ ”

Pressing her lips to a pectoral, Belle hummed. “It’s rather chilly.”

“I believe there’s a remedy somewhere around here.” He purred playfully, gently assisting in spreading her legs so she straddled him.

“Yes, I can think of a _few_ ways of keeping warm.” As the big, strong hands explored down her hips to work on her nightgown, Belle’s own hands snaked up to her husband’s face. Furrowing her brow, she carded her fingers through the thick, golden mane.

Ansell stopped pulling her gown up while his face moved back to study her own. “What is it?” her fingers scratched his jaw and he leaned into the touch.

“I think this is the longest you’ve grown your beard.” Trying to get back into the mood, Belle pressed her lips to his.

“I’m thinking it’ll help keep me warm during the winter.” He rumbled, getting her gown over her hips. “Not to mention I have this notion my wife likes me a little hairy.”

All of the attention suddenly waned. “Did... you wash your hair too?”

Pulled out of the moment, he leaned away and against the headboard “Everything washed, I assure you.” Rolling the pad of his thumb in a circle on her thigh, brow arching, his head cocked to the side ever so slightly. “What’s… Are you trying something new? Because I don’t think it’s working.”

Belle stroked the longer beard, gathering the hairs to a pointed tuft at the chin. “You haven’t brushed your hair or your beard?”

“Ah-no?” Ghosting his fingertips up her back, he gently bit one of the fingers fiddling with his beard. “You know, you have this awful funny look that certainly doesn’t indicate that we’re-” His eyes flew open as it finally registered. “ _No._ ”

She winced.

“No?”

It was impossible not to crack a smile at her husband. Her shaggy, clean, unbrushed husband. “A little?”

His face fell. “Don’t say it.”

“But you _are._ ” She giggled.

“Belle.”

“I really think the big beard makes it worse.”

“Belle, I am _not_.”

“We can brush you out quick. It’ll only take a moment.”

Laughing, his back hit the headboard. “I’m not!”

“Don’t wake him!” She shushed as she struggled with her own laughter.

“I’m not.” He whispered, chuckling with her. “And don’t you dare say it-”

“ _Fluffy._ ” She said into his chest.

Laughing, doing his damnedest not to wake up their son, Ansell wrapped her up and kissed her deeply. “This is by far the _worst_ foreplay ever. Bravo.”

“I love you?”  
“I _suppose_ I love you too.”

-Fin-


	21. Dance

 “What are you doing?”

From across the table, Belle watched the Beast freeze at the question. The thick, furry brows rose for a moment, caught off guard, then furrowed as his mouth frowned.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, clearing his throat, paw resting on the open book’s page. “Just wanting to show you this passage. I think it’s rather lovely-”

Chapeau’s violin playing was filtering through the castle, lifting it up with it’s bright, joyful notes. From what she had gathered it had been years since the valet had played, however, he had recently risen out of his years-long depression and begun to practice once more. Even being a coat rack didn't hinder him his sessions, which were often with the Maestro or the Madame. It was a welcome addition to their lives; he would often play something energetic in the early afternoon, and something much more soothing as the day wound down.

Watching the Beast fidget, Belle slowly raised a brow and studied him intently. “You were swaying to the music.”

“I- I- I was merely-” Flustered, he hunched down and did his best to hide his embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, I was not  _swaying_. I don’t sway.”

“Do you know how to dance?” She asked curiously. Suddenly the Maestro joined Chapeau’s composition and Belle began to sway slowly to the music herself.

Eyes averting to his feet the Beast was clearly uncomfortable. Then again, she noticed he always was when it came to anything about his physicality. He would happily quarrel and speak on arts and literature, however, when it came to his exterior he wanted to quickly change the subject. “A long time ago I did. But ahm, you could say I’m not the... the person I once was.”

“Do you like dancing?” She asked delicately, wanting to bring her wary friend further out of his shell.

There was no escaping the conversation. He shut the book and set it aside in defeat. “I used to, very much.” Swallowing thickly, he turned away. “But I-” Looking down at the sensation, he stared at the small hand resting gently on his wrist. Perking to the touch, the Beast's spirits visibly lifted while a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Doing his best to stuff it all back down and continue to be skeptical of everything going on, he found it harder in practice.  “Again, I  _used to_. And the last time I danced- well let's just say it didn't go well for me. I take it you like to dance?” Slowly, he pulled his paw away from her.

After months of being companions and learning all of his little tells she suspected he was blushing under all of the thick brown fur. “When the opportunity arises. Why don’t you dance any more?”

The Beast turned back around to face her, idly he dragged his claws a long the tabletop. “I’m not very graceful standing upright like this. I’m meant to be more of a four-legged gent, what you see takes some effort. Could you imagine?” Snorting, the blue eyes rolled dramatically and his tail whipped so hard in annoyance it hit a table leg. “All of  _this_ , trying to dance? You’d laugh at the absurdity happening in front of you.”

“I would not.”

“Yes, you would.” He pouted.

Belle scoffed at his childishness. “Oh, ye of little faith. I might laugh at you for a lot of things but I wouldn’t if you tried to dance. That’s just mean.”

“I’d look ridiculous enough you’d tease!”

“Beast, I would not!”

“I’ll be tripping all over myself!” He eyed her hesitantly, the tiny thing slowly swaying to the music, mint green skirts rustling and winding. She had to be a wonderful dancer; so small and graceful. For a brief, fleeting beat he thought of his former-self dancing with her. He and his best suit, she in the most stunning Parisian gown. The girl would look like a princess fit for a prince. He was no longer a prince though, and he needed to remind himself that.

Belle looked up at him impishly, extending her hand, palm up, as any young woman would to ask for a dance.

Staring blankly at the hand, mouth slipping open as he shifted nervously. Tugging at his waistcoat, a growl grumbled from his chest.

The table moved itself out of the way. 

His captor looked up at him pointedly. "You're really going to growl at me for this?"

Sighing in defeat and cursing the table, the Beast gave a small, stiff bow. “If you laugh I’m leaving.” Lip curling, he titled his chin back up and genteely took her hand. Guiding Belle to the center of the rug, the blue eyes flickered nervously to the side. "And I didn't mean to growl, sorry."

“I promise, I won’t tease.” She reassured, watching his hind paw take a tentative step. Following his lead Belle watched the Beast, so unsure of his own grace, begin to remember how to dance. They went slowly around the great rug, surrounded by the books they spent their days discussing and dissecting. And with each pass, he improved more and more. “So it’s hard for you to stand upright?”

Stumbling and catching himself the Beast looked down to keep track of his own two feet. They were paws; large, and graceful on all fours, catlike even. However, all on their own they were cumbersome. Walking like a man was so unnatural to begin with, adding rhythm was positively stupid. “I do my best around you, however, walking around in clothes is… an experience.” He admitted. “I spend many years sans clothing, on all fours.”

“You had clothes on the day I arrived.”

“True.” Carefully, he twirled her. Executing the move buoyed what little confidence he had in his skills. “You have Cogsworth to thank for that. He had some things made and guilted me into trying to act more human. I’m sure I’m quite a sight; dressed and talking like a man.” Glumly he finished. “Trying to look human, but really just some ugly creature wrapped in pretty fabric.”

Relaxing, his movements weren’t as nearly as stiff as before. They kept their pace slow, and every once in awhile he corrected himself. “I wouldn’t call you quite a sight, nor would I call you ugly.”

He gazed down at her curiously, imploringly. Could it be? She liked him?

“You look very dignified, the blue on your coat matches your eyes.” She told him, refraining from the comment that she loved the blue coat on him. He had clearly been brushed, and his mane had been pulled back from his face and plaited neatly. Handsome, she wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring herself to. More and more, he was looking handsome.

“Well, thank you.” the low voice mustered, absolutely floored by her words. 

“You have for some time, and if I may be honest you’re certainly not ugly.”

The Beast stared at her in disbelief.

“When you’re angry you’re not pleasant to look at.” Belle explained tactfully. “But when you’re not you’re quite normal.” Glancing away, her cheeks flushed with color. “You’re actually a bit handsome when you make the effort.”

The mighty face went slack. “I… am?” 

Slowly she nodded her head, feeling the giant paw so carefully slip about her waist. It felt good to get that off of her chest; he was handsome in his own way. They were dancing closely as Chapeau and Maestro’s number slowed, and the library suddenly felt much smaller. “I’ve never made fun of the way you look, you know.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She felt so close he tripped over his feet, catching himself once more. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, it’s just practice. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I just make fun of you when you’re wrong.”

Furrowing his brow, he watched revel in her own dig. And with it, the awkward tenderness blossoming between them was cut down and replaced with levity. “Mademoiselle, you have quite a way with words.”

“I try.” She giggled as a deep, happy chuckle came from the Beast. “You know, for someone who said he’d be a terrible dancer you’re pretty good.”

“We’re not doing anything fancy.” He explained, chuffed at the thought of being handsome and not too bad of a dancer in her eyes. Perhaps she did like him, or could. A possibility in the long run? A flicker of hope sprung in his chest. “If we get any more adventurous I’ll be knocking you over and scrabbling about like a dog on its hind legs.”

Belle rolled her eyes.

“What?”

“You’re sooo dramatic.” Ignoring his stubborn look she pressed on. “But, if you think anything else is too complicated… we could always practice?” Belle ran her hand up his arm, petting it absently. “It’s another thing we can do to while away the hours. I could use the practice too, it’s been ages for me.”

His eyes smiled down at her as Belle’s brown ones did the same back. “Hm.”

“Is that a yes?” She asked softly.

“I suppose so.” The small palm gently smoothed across his chest and the Beast let out a low, instinctive rumble. Gently he reached up and brushed a stubborn lock of hair out of her face and behind an ear. Hesitating, he was pleasantly surprised when she leaned into his paw, allowing him to cradle her cheek. The action, made his stomach twist and chest tighten. Never in a million years would he have thought any girl would do such a thing in reaction to his ghastly paws. Yet there was Belle, looking quite content to have the pad of his thumb gingerly stroke the spot right below her eye. “You look tired.” He said softly.

“We went on a really long adventure across the grounds.” She reminded him. Chapeau’s music was slow, warm, romantic. She stepped closer towards the Beast, it felt so natural.

His heart skipped a beat when her head nestled itself against his chest “You’re right.” The words rattled and his voice broke. Gingerly he ran his claws through her hair. “You had quite the day harassing me around the entire property on that impossible quest of yours.”

Laughing into his waistcoat, Belle shut her eyes. The Beast suddenly felt safe to her. “Listen, your roses bloom in winter. I wanted to see if anything else did or bore fruit.”

His lips pursed upwards. “Yes, which warrants an inspection of  _all_  of the flora around the castle.”

“I was curious!”

Laughing, low and joyful, he rubbed her back soothingly and didn't even think twice about doing so. “Curiosity or not, it was a trek and you look like all this dancing is making you more tired by the way you’re leaning on me.”

“It’s not.” 

"Liar."

"Okay, maybe a little. But I don't want to stop."

Fit to burst, the Beast gazed down tenderly at the young woman who sought his touch.

 

* * *

 

_*Several Months Later*_

Belle slipped out of the dining room, climbing the grand staircase and away from the joyous laughter filling the air. Ever since the curse had lifted and the sun had risen in the sky the castle had been thrown into chaos. Human again, the staff and the villagers were overjoyed. Human again, Cogsworth immediately wanted everyone to work. Thankfully, Mrs. Potts had chased him away long enough for everyone to find their friends and family. And Lumiere had pulled him aside and gotten his consent to allow anyone who wanted to leave service to do so with a hefty severance. While the afternoon had been stuffed with preparation and bringing the castle up to working order, Belle had spent all of her time with her father. She had spotted her new prince on occasion; walking down hallways, disappearing into rooms with Cogsworth and numerous staff member. They wanted his opinion on everything from updating the decade-old decor of the castle, to starting accounts with grocers, to when to reach out to the neighboring provinces.

As foreign as the Prince,  _Prince Anselme,_  was, Belle felt a sense of longing to be with him. She never wanted to leave her father but at the same time, she also needed Ansell at her side. After the night they had, it was hard to stomach seeing him disappear throughout the day. Eventually, he had descended for dinner yet even then they were celebrated by an enormous length of table and dozens upon dozens of conversation. They had gotten to talk a bit, yet it had been awkward, like meeting a new man one fancied at a party. When her back had been turned he had slipped away, leading her to think that perhaps they could have some privacy. And while the others were distracted she took the time to wind through the castle in search of the prince. Checking numerous rooms, eventually, her quest led her to the library. One of the doors was ajar, and the warmth of the fire glowed with invitation.

The prince was asleep on one of the couches next to the fireplace and the new handsome face made Belle stop. It was like a sculpture; smooth lines of marble carved and polished by an expert hand. It was peaceful at rest, long eyelashes fluttering, lips slightly parted to draw air into a chest that had stopped breathing the night before. The navy blue frock coat was draped on the back of the couch, leaving the handsome Prince Anselme in his dark gold waistcoat and dark breeches.

Slowly walking over, Belle stepped over the hastily cast aside hunting boots and silk stockings. The naked toes, no longer adorned with claws, twitched and curled when his ears heard her footsteps. The drowsy grunt that was elicited while she took a seat on the edge of the couch forced her to stifle back a giggle.

Yawning, tongue unfurling in the most lion-like way, Ansell opened his eyes to find her gazing down at him with a smile quirking her tempting lips. “Hullo.”

“You’re missing out on quite the celebration downstairs.” She told him, watching a hand come up to gently brush her cheek.

Her skin was so soft on his own. With the fur and rough paw pads gone, everything felt drastically different. “I've been the center of attention all day, unfortunately. Thankfully Cogsworth decided I needed a bit of a break.” Ghosting the pad of his thumb across her chin, he smiled when she tilted her head and kissed it. “And by decided I mean chased me up the stairs and sent Georges trailing behind with a brandy.”

Resting her palm on his stomach and splaying her fingers out the spot, Belle enjoyed the feeling of the rise and fall of his torso. Alive, her Beast was blessedly alive. “I’ll have to thank him. You’ve been looking pretty run down since I got a glance of you at lunch.”  Eyes wandering down, they fell on the site where a bullet had ripped into him. “Does it still hurt?”

“Like I got trampled by a horse.” Seeing the anguish slowly bubble up to the surface, Ansell carded his fingers through the chestnut locks. “But I’m here and that’s what matters."

Taking a minute to look at him, every inch of him, Belle leaned forward and kissed the prince. Dragging her hand up his chest, cradling his jaw in her palm, her lips brushed his own softly. Suddenly she felt his shoulders roll forward, his head lift, his lips part as he kissed back passionately. The power of his body flexing towards her was its own intoxicating feeling. Before it was over an arm was hooked around her waist and she was hovering above him, nearly on top, forcing herself to practice restraint despite what she actually wanted.

Ansell kissed her once more, much more tenderly, his handsome face relaxing into a dopey smile. The look was familiar and new all at the same time to Belle. “It’s nice to have some time with you. We were supposed to have our lovely dinner and dancing last night and it got cut short.” Realizing how close they were, he pulled his face back cautiously. The thought of being proper, considerate, wound through his mind. He would be different with Belle; better. 

“I’m sorry I left.” She said sadly.

With a groan, he sat up next to her and watched her eyes rove all over his new form; mapping it out. As clothed as he was it still made him feel a bit naked. “Seeing as I’m much less hairy and the staff is alive I don’t mind the fact that our dancing was cut short.” 

“I think it's safe to say there will be other dances.”

“I hope so.” Ansell took her hand and kissed her knuckles, savoring how divine she smelled. “When you do dance, I wish you a wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that." He recited lovingly. "Move still, still so, and own no other function: each your doing. So singular in each particular, crowns what you are doing in the present deed. That all your acts are queens."

“Charmer,” Snaking her arms around his neck, Belle relished having him all to herself.

“I wanted to recite that the day we first danced.” He kissed back, smiling against her mouth as the thought of propriety fled just as quickly as it had arrived. “I like being able to touch you, kiss you. It’ll take some getting used to, but I hope you do too.”

They hugged another tightly and Belle couldn't help but marvel at how warm he was even without all of the fur. “I love you, silly.” She said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

The Maestro and Chapeau began to play a quick, cheerful minuet. Quickly the Madame joined in and the orchestra, no longer sculptures, struck up. Merry melodies and beats that Ansell knew were being accompanied by people dancing on feet they had once more. Musing over the moment, he slipped off the couch and stood. Taking his coat, the prince pulled it on, a smile tugging at his rosy lips as he straightened himself out and cleared his throat. Belle watched, brow raised out of curiosity, and she smiled when he bowed and offered his hand. “Mademoiselle?”

She watched him, hand resting on her chin.

“Come now, we were supposed to have a night of dancing, we only had  _one_  dance.” He coaxed, pleased when she accepted. Leading his beauty to the center of the rug, looking ever so regal and dashing while doing so, Ansell took watched her courtesy. “This, in theory, will be much easier for me. But I make no promises.” Taking her hand once more he led, though after their night before he didn't mind her leading in the slightest. 

“You were very good last night.” She said, circling the rug with him.

“Sadly, I don’t think I fit into that suit anymore.”

She smirked. “You know, you looked dashing in it last night; Monsieur Tall, Hairy, and Handsome.”

They laughed together, and Ansell smoothly drew her close. “And what did you think when all of this greeted you after the curse lifted?”

Belle rolled her mouth into a tight-lipped smile.

The prince's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, that bad?" He grinned. "Come on, let's hear it."

“I thought “Wow, he’s a lot shorter now. I’ll have to get used to that.” Laughing with him, she watched him shake his head. “It was followed by the thought of blondes never being my type, but there’s a first for everything.”

“You’re sooo kind.” He laughed.

Giggling, she squeezed his hand in reassurance. “You have a presence that makes you  _appear_  larger, and more imposing than you really are. You're just not over seven feet tall anymore.” Watching his brows furrow, her hands slipped over her hips and she danced against him. “But you’re you, and I love you. Even if you’re shorter and blonder.”

Planting the softest of kisses on her forehead he was glad there were no longer sentient tables and chairs in the room to watch them. “I’m glad I pass muster.” Dancing slowly by firelight, it all felt like a dream. An exciting, terrifying, lovely dream. “I love you for who you are too.”

“We should dance downstairs with everyone else." Belle coaxed, beginning to slowly walk backward towards the doors. "You don’t even have to put on your shoes and stockings, let’s just go see everyone. Celebrate.”

"I like the privacy."

"I like having you all to myself." She agreed. "But, I can have you all to myself in the ballroom too. We can keep dancing and talking."

“I can’t dance this close with you around everyone, propriety and all.”

“I think there’ll be plenty of time to dance close in the future.”

 

* * *

 

_*Years later*_

Belle laughed as Ansell spun her on the ballroom floor. He had just winked playfully at her and was grinning from ear to ear in his best suit.

“Oh you know it's true!” He exclaimed, circling the room with her, the other dancers dressed in their brightest and most expensive silks. “They are most  _certainly_  cheating with one another. Why just the other day I heard they were caught lingering in the stables together. And his wig was  _askew_."”

“Monsieur, you are one of the biggest gossips I've ever known.” She scolded half-heartedly. “And openly gossiping at a party.”

“In  _French_ , no one else can hear us.” Looking around, he raised a brow. "God, look at those two over there." He said, nodding to a young couple in red dancing far more energetically than they were. "They're going to drink and dance the night away."

"They're very young." She pointed out.

"Do you remember what that was like?"

"That was about a year ago for us, Dear." 

"What changed?" He asked, twirling her. 

"That small person I gave birth to?" Belle replied. Well aware their son, their sweet bundle of busy sunshine, had stolen much of their youthful spontaneity. 

Brow furrowing, eventually he relented to the thought. "We're really domestic now, you know? Not that we don't have fun. It just feels like it's really sensible fun." Staring into his wife's warm, happy brown eyes he said. "Sensible fun perfectly timed around meals, naps, and diaper changes."

"You've been tamed Beast, by a baby."

Ansell growled playfully at her which caused her to laugh and shake her head.

"You know it's true, Ansell." As they danced, she drew a gloved hand up and smoothed it across his chest. The fabric of his silk suit was a deep, rich violet, complimenting her silver gown. "You look tired."

"What can I say, Darling. I've been domesticated." Ansell found the older guests had taken to the sides of the ballroom to recuperate and drink. The youngsters, full of boundless energy, were hardly on their second wind. The night had been long; full of food, drink, music, and so much merriment and love. However, he felt felt sapped and from the way Belle was moving he could tell she was feeling the same. "Let's go retire for the night. Perhaps if we leave now we can avoid being as hungover as everyone else at breakfast."

"What a sensible thing." She teased. "You wouldn't happen to be a parent now, would you, Monsieur?"

"Oh hush."

Belle led the way. She was quick to tell the rest of the castle goodnight before they climbed the stairs to their guest room. Before they even reached the door she had peeled her gloves off, taken off her shoes, and pulled the pins out of her hair. 

"See, I'm not the only one eager to get in bed." Draping his jacket over an arm and untying the ribbon out of his hair, he gestured for her to go in first as the footman opened the door.

"More eager to get out of this dress." Setting her shoes and gloves on an ornate armchair she watched as the maids assigned to her came over. "Ladies, could you please help me out of this? I'm not used to a bone corset." Shifting uncomfortably, the stays were loosened and she clasped a hand over her torso. It had been some time since she had been in something so fashionable and confining.

"I can manage myself, Monsieur," Ansell told the butler who was seeing to him. Pulling his cravat loose and kicking off his shoes he sighed at the cool marble on his aching feet. "Could you go and fetch a tea service for two? Chamomile with a bit of lavender and a small bowl of honey if it's possible."

"Of course, Sir." The man bowed and exited.

Furrowing his brow Ansell looked around as he heard cooing. "Now where is-" As soon as the Nanny came from the washroom his eyes brightened. "There's my boy."

The little boy saw his father and grinned, wriggling happily and reaching for his parents. 

Freed of her corset, Belle let out the breath she felt she had been holding in since she had been strapped in. “And what are you doing up so late?”

Her wide-eyed son squawked, reaching for her.

“He wouldn't go down, Madame.” The nanny said in exasperation. “I tried everything, I did.”

“No need to be upset.” Ansell said, peeling off his waistcoat. “He's a bit clingy with his mother and tends to get excited when we stray from the routine.” Padding over he gestured to the nanny and transferred Henri to his arms. “Were you a little pest, Mon petit homme?” Kissing a fat cheek, he thanked the nanny who gave him a concerning stare as he allowed the child to pull on his face and interact with him. “Don't you know staying up this late at your age is unacceptable?”

Belle watched the two in amusement as the ladies helped her out of the ball gown. Glad his parents had returned to him, Henri was babbling happily. And Ansell gamely conversed as he walked around the room with the baby.

“Did you know this past year was the best year?” He asked his darling little one, holding him up and out an delighting in the sudden burst of pure laughter. “Do you know why?”

The maids couldn't help up steal looks at the pair, their mouths twitching in amusement.

Henri let out a wild laugh.

“Because you were born!” He grinned, lowering him and kissing the fat belly. “You came in the spring and every day has been something new. Now we’ve had a lot of adventures but I can assure you, you’re the best one. Even if you've made me old and sensible.”

Cooing and gurgling, he stretched, pawing eagerly at his father's beard as he was tucked back against the broad chest.

“Yes, you are, my little Darling.” Laughing lightly, he delighted in the round cheeks pulled up into a baby grin. “You're so sweet and smart I could eat you up.”

“Thank you so much. After you put it all away you're free to go.” Belle told the servants, sliding into her robe and padding over to the crib to pick up a blanket. "Madame?" Turning to the nanny, she continued. "Thank you for watching him, we'll take over and put him to bed."

Watching the help leave the room, he turned to Belle as she padded over. “Isn’t he the best adventure?”

“Most certainly.” She smiled lovingly at her men, Henri chattering at his father. “But we’re trying to put him to bed, not rile him up.” Gently Belle extracted her baby, smiling as he snuggled in and nuzzled at the crook of her neck. The baby huffed at being wrapped in a blanket yet quickly made himself comfortable.  “Settle down, Sweetheart. We need to go to bed.” Rocking on her heels she patted his back soothingly and planted a kiss on his crop of brown hair. It was getting wildly wavey, a bit like Maurice.

Stepping in, Ansell gently rested his hands on her hips. “Sorry.”

The orchestra was still playing downstairs, people still dancing the night away. Swaying to the music, she kept patting the little back as Henri talked softly to her regarding his night being babysat. “He’s not the only one who needs to be put to bed.”

“Very true. And I'm glad we elected to spend a few nights here, especially since we brought him along. Makes for an easier turn in for all three of us.” Wrapping his arms around her, Ansell swayed with his wife to the music. “Is he hungry?”

“I hope not, seeing as I snuck in to feed him when it was his actual bedtime.” Turning Henri, she laid him in the crook of an arm, watching his big brown eyes gaze. Thankfully he was beginning to look a bit relaxed and drowsy.

Furrowing his little brow, Henri prattled on and grabbed his toes while his eyes bobbed.

“Yes, you had a big day.” She replied in a gentle, even tone. Reaching into the pocket of her robe Belle found his pearl pacifier. “You saw so much family and you were the center of attention.”

Yawning, the baby looked ready to fight being put down, despite the weariness in his eyes. Nonetheless, he eagerly took to his pacifier and began to soothe himself, letting out a muffled string of vowels.

“Easy, Little One. Just relax, we've got you.” Ansell stepped in closer as they slowly circled to the music, his warm lips on her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Do you ever think about the years ahead?” He asked softly, gazing down at their thriving son. Happy and well-loved, the sweetest slice of heaven they had been blessed with. “He’ll be a man in 1800. And maybe his children, if not his grandchildren, they’ll see the 1900s.” Ansell mused. “So much in the future, I can scarcely imagine what the world will look like then.”

“We’ll see 1800 too unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“True, I suspect I’ll be quite gray.”

Bell stole a kiss. “Let’s enjoy the present, Ansell. We’ve worked so hard to have it.”

Kissing her back, he whispered. “Of course, Darling. It’s a wonderful present.”

Henri yawned, smacking his lips and turning into his maman. The pacifier fell out of his mouth and Belle was quick to give it again and adjust him so that he was more prone to nodding off. The swaying soothed him as she felt cozy and safe, and he grabbed and gripped her robe. Knowing what was happening his parents wisely stopped talking, watching their son's eyes slowly close. They both hummed Henri's favorite lullaby until he let out a mighty sigh and dozed off. 

"There we go," Belle whispered, gently patting his back.

“It’s going to be a fine new year, I can feel it.” Her husband whispered, cupping a little foot that had jutted out of the blanket. “He’ll be one, and walking and talking.”

“The present.” She reminded him with a kiss.

“It’s such a bright future though.”

“It is.” Resting her head on his shoulder, Henry mumbled in his sleep and caused her to smile. Gazing up at her husband, finding his tired yet happy blue eyes while they slowly shuffled to the music downstairs she stole another kiss.  “I love this dance.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

 

-fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you do dance, I wish you  
> A wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do  
> Nothing but that; move still, still so,  
> And own no other function: each your doing,  
> So singular in each particular,  
> Crowns what you are doing in the present deed,  
> That all your acts are queens.  
> -A Winter's Tale: Act 4, Scene 4


End file.
